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jEftttiott ac Ituxc 

The Editioyi de Luxe is printed front type and will 
be lijnited to Five Hundred Copies, of zvhich this is 



No. 



GEBBIE and COMPANY. 



President. 




Secretary. 



'AuiVl v-^ \»^ 5HV\OfiS\?. 



ShooUiig at a Murk 



UNIFORM EDITION 



HUNTING TRIPS OF A 
RANCHMAN 

Sketches of Sport on the Northern Cattle Plains 



By 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT 



iii^ 



Volume I 



J >> , ,' 



' ; ''> ''' 



PHILADELPHIA 

GEBBIE AND COMPANY 
1902 



Vol. 3 



1 Ht UiSfi/'RV OF 
CONbRtSS, 

Two Copies Received 

JAN 19 1903 

Copynght tntry 

CLASS PL. XXc. No. 

U- « 5 S <> 

COPY B. 



1 



Copyright, 1885 

Copyright, 1902 

by 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 



This edition of " Hunting Trips of a Ranchman " is issued under 
special arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons 



* c 
« • 



c ,c t ,« 









VS, 



TO THAT 

KEENEST OF SPORTSMEN 

AND 

TRUEST OF FRIENDS 

MY BROTHER 
ELLIOTT ROOSEVELT 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 

RANCHING IN THE BAD LANDS 

The Northern cattle plains — Stock-raising — Cowboys, their 
dress and character — My ranches in the Bad Lands of the 
Little Missouri — Indoor amusements — Books — Pack-rats — 
Birds — Ranch life — The round-up — Indians — Ephemeral na- 
ture of ranch life — Foes of the stockmen — Wolves, their rav- 
ages — Fighting with dogs — Cougar — My brother kills one — 
One killed by bloodhounds — The chase one of the chief pleas- 
ures of ranch life — Hunters and cowboys — Weapons — Dress 
— Htmting-horses — Target-shooting and game-shooting 1-49 

CHAPTER II 

WATERFOWL 

Stalking wild geese with rifle — Another goose killed in 
early morning — Snow-goose shot with rifle from beaver 
meadow — Description of plains beaver — Its rapid extinction 
— Ducks — Not plenty on cattle plains — Teal — Duck-shooting 
in course of wagon-trip to eastward — Mallards and wild geese 
in cornfields — Eagle and ducks — Curlews — Noisiness and 
curiosity — Grass plover — Skunks 50-76 

CHAPTER III 

THE GROUSE OF THE NORTHERN CATTLE PLAINS 

Rifle and shot-gun — Sharp-tailed prairie fowl — Not often 
regularly pursued — Killed for pot — Booming in spring — 
Their yomig — A day after them with shot-gun in August — 

VOL. I. 



vi Contents 

At that time easy to kill — Change of habits in fall — Increased 
wariness — Shooting in snowstorm from edge of canyon — 
Killing them with rifle in early morning — Trip after them 
made by my brother and myself — Sage-fowl — The grouse of 
the desert — Habits — Good food — Shooting them — ^Jack-rab- 
bit — An account of a trip made by my brother, in Texas, 
after wild turkey — Shooting them from the roosts — Coursing 
them with greyhotonds 77-118 

CHAPTER IV 

THE DEER OF THE RIVER BOTTOMS 

The white-tail deer best known of American large game — 
The most dififictilt to exterminate — A buck killed in light snow 
about Christmas-time — The species very canny — Two "tame 
fawns" — Habits of deer — Pets — Method of still-himting the 
white-tail — Habits contrasted with those of antelope — Wagon- 
trip to the westward — Heavy cloudburst — Buck shot while 
hunting on horseback — Moonlight ride 1 19-146 

CHAPTER V 

THE BLACK- TAIL DEER 

The black-tail and white-tail deer compared — Different 
zones where game are fotmd — Hunting on horseback and on 
foot — Still-htmting — Anecdotes — Rapid extermination — 
First buck shot — Buck shot from hiding-place — Different 
qualities required in htm ting different kinds of game — Still- 
htmting the black-tail a most noble form of sport — Dress re- 
qtdred — Character of habitat — Bad Lands — Best time for 
shooting at dusk — Difficult aiming — Large buck killed in 
late evening — Fighting capacity of bucks — Appearance of 
black-tail — Difficult to see and to hit — Indians poor shots — 
Riding to hounds — Tracking — Hunting in fall weather — 
Three killed in a day's hunting on foot — A hunt on horseback 
— Pony turns a somersault — Two bucks killed by one ball at 
very long range 147-2 10 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Shooting at a Mark 

Will Crawford 

Hunting Wild Geese 
W. L. Hudson 

Grouse Shooting .... 
W. L. Hudson 

Hunting the Black-Tail Deer . . . 159 
W. L. Hudson 







^ 


'ror 


Uispiece 




• 


• S3 


^^ 


• 


. 107 


y 



Vll 



HUNTING TRIPS OF 

A RANCHMAN 



CHAPTER I 

RANCHING IN THE BAD LANDS 

THE great middle plains of the United States, 
parts of which are still scantily peopled, 
by men of Mexican parentage, while other 
parts have been but recently won from the war- 
like tribes of Horse Indians, now form a broad 
pastoral belt, stretching in a north and south line 
from British America to the Rio Grande. Through- 
out this great belt of grazing land almost the only 
industry is stock-raising, which is here engaged in 
on a really gigantic scale ; and it is already nearly 
covered with the ranches of the stockmen, except 
on those isolated tracts (often themselves of great 
extent) from which the red men look hopelessly 
and sullenly out upon their old hunting-grounds, 
now roamed over by the countless herds of long- 
horned cattle. The northern portion of this belt 
is that which has been most lately thrown open to 

VOL. I. — I. 



2 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the whites ; and it is with this part only that we 
have to do. 

The Northern cattle plains occupy the basin 
of the Upper Missouri; that is, they occupy all 
of the land drained by the tributaries of that 
river, and by the river itself, before it takes 
its long trend to the southeast. They stretch 
from the rich wheat farms of Central Dakota 
to the Rocky Moimtains, and southward to the 
Black Hills and the Big Horn chain, thus in- 
cluding all of Montana, Northern Wyoming, and 
extreme Western Dakota. The character of this 
rolling, broken, plains country is everywhere much 
the same. It is a high, nearly treeless region, 
of light rainfall, crossed by streams which are 
sometimes rapid torrents and sometimes merely 
strings of shallow pools. In places, it stretches out 
into deserts of alkali and sage-brush, or into nearly 
level prairies of short grass, extending many 
miles without a break ; elsewhere there are rolling 
hills, sometimes of considerable height; and in 
other places the ground is rent and broken into 
the most fantastic shapes, partly by volcanic ac- 
tion and partly by the action of water in a dry 
climate. These latter portions form the famous 
Bad Lands. Cottonwood trees fringe the streams 
or stand in groves on the alluvial bottoms of the 
rivers; and some of the steep hills and canyon 
sides are clad with pines or stunted cedars. In the 



Raiichiii<y in the Bad Lands 3 



early spring, when the young blades first sprout, 
the land looks green and bright; but during the 
rest of the year there is no such appearance of 
freshness, for the short bunch-grass is almost 
brown, and the gray-green sage bush, bitter and 
withered-looking, abounds everywhere, and gives 
a peculiarly barren aspect to the landscape. 

It is but little over half a dozen years since 
these lands were won from the Indians. They 
were their only remaining great hunting-grounds, 
and towards the end of the last decade all of the 
Northern plains tribes went on the war-path in a 
final desperate effort to preserve them. After 
bloody fighting and protracted campaigns, they 
were defeated, and the country thrown open to 
the whites, while the building of the Northern 
Pacific Railroad gave immigration an immense 
impetus. There were great quantities of game, 
especially buffalo, and the hunters who thronged 
in to pursue the huge herds of the latter were 
the rough forerunners of civilization. No longer 
dreading the Indians, and having the railway on 
which to transport the robes, they followed the 
buffalo in season and out, until, in 1883, the 
herds were practically destroyed. But, mean- 
while, the cattlemen formed the vanguard of the 
white settlers. Already the hardy Southern 
stockmen had passed up with their wild-looking 
herds to the very border of the dangerous land. 



4 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

and even into it, trusting to luck and their own 
prowess for their safety; and the instant the 
danger was even partially removed, their cattle 
swarmed northward along the streams. Some 
Eastern men, seeing the extent of the grazing 
country, brought stock out by the railroad, and 
the short-horned beasts became almost as plenty 
as the wilder-looking Southern steers. At the 
present time, indeed, the cattle of these Northern 
ranges show more short-horn than long-horn 
blood. 

Cattle-raising on the plains, as now carried on, 
started in Texas, where the Americans had learned 
it from the Mexicans whom they dispossessed. It 
has only become a prominent feature of Western 
life during the last score of years. When the 
Civil War was raging, there were hundreds of thou- 
sands of bony, half -wild steers and cows in Texas, 
whose value had hitherto been very slight; but 
toward the middle of the struggle they became 
a most important source of food supply to both 
armies, and when the war had ended, the profits 
of the business were widely known and many men 
had gone into it. At first, the stock-raising was 
all done in Texas, and the beef -steers, when ready 
for sale, were annually driven north along what 
became a regular cattle trail. Soon the men 
of Kansas and Colorado began to start ranches, 
and Texans who were getting crowded out moved 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 5 

their herds north into these lands, and afterward 
into Wyoming. Large herds of yearhng steers 
also were, and still are, driven from the breeding 
ranches of the South to some Northern range, 
there to be fattened for three years before selling. 
The cattle trail led through great wastes, and 
the scores of armed cowboys who, under one or 
two foremen, accompanied each herd, had often 
to do battle with bands of hostile Indians; but 
this danger is now a thing of the past, as, indeed, 
will soon be the case with the cattle trail itself, 
for year by year the grangers press steadily west- 
ward into it, and when they have once settled in 
a place, will not permit the cattle to be driven 
across it. 

In the Northern country, the ranches vary 
greatly in size : on some there may be but a few 
hundred head, on others ten times as many thou- 
sand. The land is still in great part unsurv^eyed, 
and is hardly anywhere fenced in, the cattle roam- 
ing over it at will. The small ranches are often 
quite close to one another, say within a couple of 
miles ; but the home ranch of a big outfit will not 
have another building within ten or twenty miles 
of it, or, indeed, if the country is dry, not within 
fifty. The ranch-house may be only a mud dug- 
out, or a "shack " made of logs stuck upright in the 
ground; more often, it is a fair-sized, well-made 
building of hewn logs, divided into several rooms. 



6 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

Around it are grouped the other buildings — log 
stables, cow-sheds, and hay-ricks, an outhouse 
in which to store things, and, on large ranches, 
another house in which the cowboys sleep. The 
strongly made, circular horse-corral, with a snub- 
bing-post in the middle, stands close by; the 
larger cow-corral, in which the stock is branded, 
may be some distance off. A small patch of 
ground is usually enclosed as a vegetable garden, 
and a very large one, with water in it, as a pasture 
to be used only in special cases. All the work is 
done on horseback, and the quantity of ponies is 
thus of necessity very great, some of the large 
outfits numbering them by hundreds ; on my own 
ranch there are eighty. Most of them are small, 
wiry beasts, not very speedy, but with good bot- 
tom, and able to pick up a living under the most 
adverse circumstances. There are usually a few 
large, fine horses kept for the special use of the 
ranchman or foreman. The best are those from 
Oregon ; most of them come from Texas, and many 
are bought from the Indians. They are broken 
in a very rough manner, and many are in con- 
sequence vicious brutes, with the detestable habit 
of bucking. Of this habit I have a perfect dread, 
and, if I can help it, never get on a confirmed 
bucker. The horse puts his head down between 
his forefeet, arches his back, and with stiff legs 
gives a succession of jarring jumps, often "chang- 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 7 

ing ends" as he does so. Even if a man can 
keep his seat, the performance gives him about as 
uncomfortable a shaking up as can be imagined. 

The cattle rove free over the hills and prai- 
ries, picking up their own living even in winter, 
all the animals of each herd having certain dis- 
tinctive brands on them. But little attempt is 
made to keep them within definite bounds, and 
they wander whither they wish, except that the 
ranchmen generally combine to keep some of 
their cowboys riding lines to prevent them stray- 
ing away altogether. The missing ones are gen- 
erally recovered in the annual round-ups, when the 
calves are branded. These round-ups, in which 
many outfits join together, and which cover hun- 
dreds of miles of territory, are the busiest periods 
of the year for the stockmen, who then, with their 
cowboys, work from morning till night. In winter, 
little is done except a certain amount of line riding. 

The cowboys form a class by themselves, and 
are now quite as typical representatives of the 
wilder side of Western life as were a few years ago 
the skin-clad hunters and trappers. They are 
mostly of native birth, and although there are 
among them wild spirits from every land, yet the 
latter soon become undistinguishable from their 
American companions, for these plainsmen are 
far from being so heterogeneous as is commonly 
supposed. On the contrary, all have a curious 



8 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

similarity to each other ; existence in the West 
seems to put the same stamp upon each and 
every one of them. Sinewy, hardy, self-reHant, 
their hfe forces them to be both daring and ad- 
venturous, and the passing over their heads of a 
few years leaves printed on their faces certain 
lines which tell of dangers quietly fronted and 
hardships uncomplainingly endured. They are 
far from being as lawless as they are described; 
though they sometimes cut queer antics when, 
after many months of lonely life, they come into a 
frontier town in which drinking and gambling are 
the only recognized forms of amusement, and 
where pleasure and vice are considered synony- 
mous terms. On the round-ups, or when a num- 
ber get together, there is much boisterous, often 
foul-mouthed, mirth; but they are rather silent, 
self-contained men when with strangers, and are 
frank and hospitable to a degree. The Texans 
are perhaps the best at the actual cowboy work. 
They are absolutely fearless riders and under- 
stand well the habits of the half -wild cattle, being 
unequalled in those most trying times when, for 
instance, the cattle are stampeded by a thunder- 
storm at night, while in the use of the rope they 
are only excelled by the Mexicans. On the other 
hand, they are prone to drink, and, when drunk, 
to shoot. Many Kansans, and others from the 
Northern States, have also taken up the life of 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 9 

late years, and though these scarcely reach, in 
point of skill and dash, the standard of the South- 
erners, who may be said to be bom in the saddle, 
yet they are to the full as resolute and even more 
trustworthy. My own foremen were originally 
Eastern backwoodsmen. 

The cowboy's dress is both picturesque and 
serviceable, and, like many of the terms of his 
pursuit, is partly of Hispano-Mexican origin. It 
consists of a broad felt hat, a flannel shirt, with a 
bright silk handkerchief loosely knotted round the 
neck, trousers tucked into high-heeled boots, and 
a pair of leather "shaps" {diaper ajos) or heavy 
riding overalls. Great spurs and a large-calibre 
revolver complete the costume. For horse gear 
there is a cruel curb bit, and a very strong, heavy- 
saddle with high pommel and cantle. This saddle 
seems needlessly weighty, but the work is so 
rough as to make strength the first requisite. A 
small pack is usually carried behind it ; also sad- 
dle pockets, or small saddle-bags ; and there are 
strings wherewith to fasten the loops of the raw- 
hide lariat. The pommel has to be stout, as one 
end of the lariat is twisted around it when work is 
to be done, and the strain upon it is tremendous 
when a vigorous steer has been roped, or when, 
as is often the case, a wagon gets stuck and the 
team has to be helped out by one of the riders 
hauling from the saddle. A ranchman or foreman 



10 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

• 
dresses precisely like the cowboys, except that the 
materials are finer, the saddle leather being hand- 
somely car\'ed, the spurs, bit, and revolver silver- 
mounted, the shaps of sealskin, etc. The revolver 
was formerly a necessity, to protect the owner 
from Indians and other human foes; this is still 
the case in a few places, but, as a rule, it is now 
carried merely from habit, or to kill rattlesnakes, 
or on the chance of falling in with a wolf or coyote, 
while not unfrequently it is used to add game to 
the cowboy's not too varied bill of fare. 

A cowboy is always a good and bold rider, but 
his seat in the saddle is not at all like that of one of 
our Eastern or Southern fox-hunters. The stir- 
rups are so long that the man stands almost erect 
in them, from his head to his feet being a nearly 
straight line. It is difficult to compare the horse- 
manship of a Western plainsman with' that of an 
Eastern or Southern cross-coimtry rider. In fol- 
lowing hoimds over fences and high walls, on a 
spirited horse needing very careful humoring, the 
latter would certainly excel ; but he would find it 
hard work to sit a bucking horse like a cowboy, or 
to imitate the headlong dash with which one will 
cut out a cow marked with his own brand from a 
herd of several hundred others, or will follow at 
full speed the twistings and doubhngs of a refrac- 
tory steer over ground where an Eastern horse 
would hardly keep its feet walking. 



Ranchinof in the Bad Lands 1 1 



'& 



My own ranches, the Elkhom and the Chimney 
Butte, he along the eastern border of the cattle 
countr}-, where the Little ]\Iissoiiri flows through 
the heart of the Bad Lands. This, like most other 
plains rivers, has a broad, shaUow bed, through 
which in times of freshets runs a muddy torrent 
that neither man nor beast can pass ; at other sea- 
sons of the year it is very shallow, spreading out 
into pools, between which the trickling water ma}'' 
be but a few inches deep. Even then, however, 
it is not alwavs easv to cross, for the bottom is 
filled with quicksands and mud-holes. The river 
flows in long sigmoid curves through an alluvial 
valley of no great width. The amoimt of this 
alluvial land enclosed by a single bend is called a 
bottom, which may be either covered with cotton- 
wood trees or else be simply a great grass meadow. 
From the edges of the valle}- the land rises 
abruptly in steep high buttes, whose crests are 
sharp and jagged. This broken countr}^ extends 
back from the river for man}' miles, and has 
been called always, by Indians, French vo^-ageurs, 
and American trappers alike, the "Bad Lands," 
partly from its dreaiy and forbidding aspect and 
partly from the difficulty experienced in travel- 
ling through it. Ever\' few miles it is crossed by 
creeks which open into the Little Missouri, of 
which they are simply repetitions in miniature, 
except that duiing most of the 3-ear they are 



12 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

almost dry, some of them having in their beds here 
and there a never-faihng spring or muddy alka- 
line-water hole. From these creeks run coulies, 
or narrow, winding valleys, through which water 
flows when the snow melts; their bottoms con- 
tain patches of brush, and they lead back into the 
heart of the Bad Lands. Some of the buttes 
spread out into level plateaus, many miles in ex- 
tent ; others form chains, or rise as steep, isolated 
masses. Some are of volcanic origin, being com- 
posed of masses of scoria ; the others, of sandstone 
or clay, are worn by water into the most fantastic 
shapes. In coloring, they are as bizarre as in form. 
Among the level, parallel strata which make up the 
land are some of coal. When a coal vein gets on 
fire it makes what is called a burning mine, and 
the clay above it is turned into brick; so that 
where water wears away the side of a hill sharp 
streaks of black and red are seen across it, min- 
gled with the grays, purples, and browns. Some 
of the buttes are overgrown with gnarled, stunted 
cedars or small pines, and they are all cleft through 
and riven in every direction by deep narrow ra- 
vines, or by canyons with perpendicular sides. 

In spite of their look of savage desolation, the 
Bad Lands make a good cattle country, for there 
is plenty of nourishing grass and excellent shelter 
from the winter storms. The cattle keep close to 
them in the cold months, while in the summer time 



Ranchincr in the Bad Lands 13 



'& 



they wander out on the broad prairies stretching 
back of them, or come down to the river bottoms. 
My home-ranch stands on the river brink. 
From the low, long veranda, shaded by leafy 
cottonwoods, one looks across sand-bars and 
shallows to a strip of meadowland, behind which 
rises a line of sheer cliffs and grassy plateaus. 
This veranda is a pleasant place in the summer 
evenings when a cool breeze stirs along the river 
and blows in the faces of the tired men, who loll 
back in their rocking-chairs (what true Amer- 
ican does not enjoy a rocking-chair?), book in 
hand — though they do not often read the books, 
but rock gently to and fro, gazing sleepily out 
at the weird-looking buttes opposite, until their 
sharp lines grow indistinct and purple in the after- 
glow of the sunset. The story -high house of hewn 
logs is clean and neat, with many rooms, so that 
one can be alone if one wishes to. The nights in 
summer are cool and pleasant, and there are 
plenty of bearskins and buffalo robes, trophies of 
our own skill, with which to bid defiance to the 
bitter cold of winter. In summer time, we are not 
much within doors, for we rise before dawn and 
work hard enough to be willing to go to bed soon 
after nightfall. The long winter evenings are 
spent sitting round the hearthstone, while the 
pine logs roar and crackle, and the men play check- 
ers or chess, in the firelight. The rifles stand in 



14 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the corners of the room or rest across the elk- 
antlers which jut out from over the fireplace. 
From the deer-horns ranged along the walls and 
thrust into the beams and rafters hang heavy over- 
coats of wolfskin or coonskin, and otter-fur or 
beaver-fur caps and gauntlets. Rough board 
shelves hold a number of books, without which 
some of the evenings would be long indeed. No 
ranchman who loves sport can afford to be with- 
out Van Dyke's " Still Hunter," Dodge's " Plains of 
the Great West, " or Caton's " Deer and Antelope 
of America"; and Coues's " Birds of the North- 
west" will be valued if he cares at all for natural 
history. A Western plainsman is reminded every 
day, by the names of the prominent landmarks 
among which he rides, that the country was known 
to men who spoke French long before any of his 
own kinsfolk came to it, and hence he reads with 
a double interest Parkman's histories of the early 
Canadians. As for Irving, Hawthorne, Cooper, 
Lowell, and the other standbys, I suppose no man. 
East or West, would wilUngly be long without 
them ; while for lighter reading there are dreamy 
Ike Marvel, Burroughs's breezy pages, and the 
quaint, pathetic character-sketches of the South- 
ern writers — Cable, Craddock, Macon, Joel Chandler 
Harris, and sweet Sherwood Bonner. And when 
one is in the Bad Lands he feels as if they somehow 
look just exactly as Poe's tales and poems sound. 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 15 

By the way, my books have some rather imex- 
pected foes, in the shape of the pack rats. These 
are larger than our house rats, with soft gray fur, 
big eyes, and bushy tails, like a squirrel's; they 
are rather pretty beasts and very tame, often com- 
ing into the shacks and log cabins of the settlers. 
Woodmen and plainsmen, in their limited vocab- 
ulary, make great use of the verb "pack," which 
means to carry, more properly to carry on one's 
back; and these rats were christened pack rats 
on account of their curious and inveterate habit 
of dragging off to their holes every object they 
can possibly move. From the hole of one, under- 
neath the wall of a hut, I saw taken a small re- 
volver, a hunting-knife, two books, a fork, a small 
bag, and a tin cup. The little shack mice are 
much more common than the rats, and among 
them there is a wee pocket-mouse, with pouches 
on the outside of its little cheeks. 

In the spring, when the thickets are green, the 
hermit thrushes sing sweetly in them; when it is 
moonlight, the voluble, cheery notes of the thrash- 
ers or brown thrushes can be heard all night long. 
One of our sweetest, loudest songsters is the 
meadow-lark; this I could hardly get used to at 
first, for it looks exactly like the Eastern meadow- 
lark, which utters nothing but a harsh disagree- 
able chatter. But the plains air seems to give it a 
voice, and it will perch on the top of a bush or tree 



i6 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

and sing for hours in rich, bubbHng tones. Out 
on the prairie there are several kinds of plains 
sparrows which sing very brightly, one of them 
hovering in the air all the time, like a bobolink. 
Sometimes, in the early morning, when crossing 
the open, grassy plateaus, I have heard the prince 
of them all, the Missouri skylark. The skylark 
sings on the wing, soaring over head and mount- 
ing in spiral curves until it can hardly be seen, 
while its bright, tender strains never cease for a 
moment. I have sat on my horse and listened to 
one singing for a quarter of an hour at a time 
without stopping. There is another bird, also, 
which sings on the wing, though I have not seen 
the habit put down in the books. One bleak, 
March day, when snow covered the groimd and the 
shaggy ponies crowded about the empty corral, 
a flock of snow-buntings came familiarly round 
the cow-shed, clambering over the ridge-pole and 
roof. Every few moments one of them would 
mount into the air, hovering about with quiver- 
ing wings and warbling a loud, merry song, with 
some very sweet notes. They were a most wel- 
come little group of guests, and we were sorry 
when, after loitering around a day or two, they 
disappeared towards their breeding haunts. 

In the still fall nights, if we lie awake, we can 
listen to the clanging cries of the water-fowl, as 
their flocks speed southward ; and in cold weather 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 17 

the coyotes occasionally come near enough for us 
to hear their uncanny wailing. The larger wolves, 
too, now and then join in, with a kind of deep, 
dismal howling; but this melancholy sound is 
more often heard when out camping than from 
the ranch-house. 

The charm of ranch life comes in its freedom, 
and the vigorous open-air existence it forces a man 
to lead. Except when hunting in bad ground, 
the whole time away from the house is spent in the 
saddle, and there are so many ponies that a fresh 
one can always be had. These ponies are of every 
size and disposition, and rejoice in names as dif- 
ferent as their looks. Hackamore, Wire Fence, 
Steel Trap, War Cloud, Pinto, Buckskin, Circus, and 
Standing Jimmie are among those that, as I write, 
are running frantically around the corral in the 
vain effort to avoid the rope, wielded by the dex- 
trous and sinewy hand of a broad-hatted cowboy. 

A ranchman is kept busy most of the time, but 
his hardest work comes during the spring and fall 
round-ups, when the calves are branded or the 
beeves gathered for market. Our round-up dis- 
trict includes the Beaver and Little Beaver creeks 
(both of which always contain running water, and 
head up toward each other), and as much of the 
river, nearly two hundred miles in extent, as lies 
between their mouths. All the ranches along the 
lines of these two creeks and the river space 

VOL. I.— 2. 



1 8 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

between join in sending from one to three or four 
men to the round-up, each man taking eight ponies ; 
and for every six or seven men there will be a four- 
horse wagon to carry the blankets and mess-kit. 
The whole, including perhaps forty or fifty cow- 
boys, is imder the head of one first-class foreman, 
styled the captain of the round-up. Beginning at 
one end of the line, the round-up works along clear 
to the other. Starting at the head of one creek, 
the wagons and the herd of spare ponies go down 
ten or twelve miles, while the cowboys, divided 
into small parties, scour the neighboring coimtry, 
covering a great extent of territory, and in the 
evening come into the appointed place with all 
the cattle they have seen. This big herd, together 
with the pony herd, is guarded and watched all 
night, and driven during the day. At each home- 
ranch (where there is always a large corral fitted 
for the purpose) all the cattle of that brand are cut 
out from the rest of the herd, which is to continue 
its journey; and the cows and calves are driven 
into the corral, where the latter are roped, thrown, 
and branded. In throwing the rope from horse- 
back, the loop, held in the right hand, is swung 
round and round the head by a motion of the 
wrist ; when on foot, the hand is usually held by 
the side, the loop dragging on the ground. It is a 
pretty sight to see a man who knows how use the 
rope; again and again an expert will catch fifty 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 19 

animals by the leg without making a misthrow. 
But imless practice is begun very yoimg, it is hard 
to become really proficient. 

Cutting out cattle, next to managing a stam- 
peded herd at night, is that part of the cowboy's 
work needing the boldest and most skilful horse- 
manship. A young heifer or steer is very loth to 
leave the herd, always tries to break back into it, 
can run like a deer, and can dodge like a rabbit ; but 
a thorough cattle-pony enjoys the work as much 
as its rider, and follows a beast like a four-footed 
fate through every double and turn. The ponies 
for the cutting-out or afternoon work are small 
and quick; those used for the circle-riding in the 
morning have need rather to be strong and rangey. 

The work on a round-up is very hard, but al- 
though the busiest it is also the pleasantest part of 
a cowboy's existence. His food is good, though 
coarse, and his sleep is sound indeed; while the 
work is very exciting, and is done in company, 
under the stress of an intense rivalry between all 
the men, both as to their own skill and as to the 
speed and training of their horses. Clumsiness, 
and still more the slightest approach to timidity, 
expose a man to the roughest and most merciless 
raillery ; and the unfit are weeded out by a very 
rapid process of natural selection. When the 
work is over for the day the men gather round 
the fire for an hour or two to sing songs, talk, 



20 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

smoke, and tell stories; and he who has a good 
voice, or, better still, can play a fiddle or banjo, is 
sure to receive his meed of most sincere homage. 

Though the ranchman is busiest during the 
round-up, yet he is far from idle at other times. 
He rides round among the cattle to see if any 
are sick, visits any outlying camp of his men, 
hunts up any bands of ponies which may stray, — 
and they are always straying, — superintends the 
haying, and, in fact, does not often find that he has 
too much leisure on his hands. Even in winter 
he has work which must be done. His ranch 
supplies milk, butter, eggs, and potatoes, and his 
rifle keeps him, at least intermittently, in fresh 
meat; but coffee, sugar, flour, and whatever else 
he may want has to be hauled in, and this is 
generally done when the ice will bear. Then 
firewood must be chopped ; or, if there is a good 
vein of coal, as on my ranch, the coal must be dug 
out and hauled in. Altogether, though the ranch- 
man will have time enough to take shooting trips, 
he will be very far from having time to make 
shooting a business, as a stranger who comes for 
nothing else can afford to do. 

There are now no Indians left in my immediate 
neighborhood, though a small party of harmless 
Grosventres occasionally passes through ; yet it is 
but six years since the Sioux surprised and killed 
five men in a log station just south of me, where 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 21 

the Fort Keogh trail crosses the river; and, two 
years ago, when I went down on the prairies 
towards the Black Hills, there was still danger 
from Indians. That summer the buffalo hunters 
had killed a couple of Crows, and while we were on 
the prairie a long-range skirmish occurred near us 
between some Cheyennes and a number of cow- 
boys . In fact, we ourselves were one day scared by 
what we thought to be a party of Sioiix ; but, on 
riding towards them, they proved to be half-breed 
Crees, who were more afraid of us than we were of 
them. 

During the past century a good deal of senti- 
mental nonsense has been talked about our tak- 
ing the Indians' land. Now, I do not mean to say 
for a moment that gross wrong has not been done 
the Indians, both by government and individuals, 
again and again. The government makes prom- 
ises impossible to perform, and then fails to do 
even what it might toward their fulfilment; and 
where brutal and reckless frontiersmen are brought 
into contact with a set of treacherous, revenge- 
ful, and fiendishly cruel savages, a long series of 
outrages by both sides is sure to follow. But as 
regards taking the land, at least from the West- 
ern Indians, the simple truth is that the latter 
never had any real ownership in it at all. Where 
the game was plenty, there they hunted ; they fol- 
lowed it when it moved away to new hunting- 



22 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

grounds, unless they were prevented by stronger 
rivals, and to most of the land on which we found 
them they had no stronger claim than that of hav- 
ing a few years previously butchered the original 
occupants. When my cattle came to the Little 
Missouri, the region was only inhabited by a score 
or so of white hunters ; their title to it was quite as 
good as that of most Indian tribes to the lands 
they claim; yet nobody dreamed of saying that 
these hunters owned the country. Each could 
eventually have kept his own claim of i6o acres, 
and no more. The Indians should be treated in 
just the same way that we treat the white settlers. 
Give each his little claim; if, as would generally 
happen, he declined this, why, then let him share 
the fate of the thousands of white hunters and 
trappers who have lived on the game that the set- 
tlement of the country has exterminated, and let 
him, like these whites, who will not work, perish 
from the face of the earth which he cumbers. 

The doctrine seems merciless, and so it is ; but it 
is just and rational for all that. It does not 
do to be merciful to a few, at the cost of justice 
to the many. The cattlemen at least keep herds 
and build houses on the land ; yet I would not for 
a moment debar settlers from the right of entry 
to the cattle country, though their coming in 
means in the end the destruction of us and our 
industry. 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 23 

For we ourselves and the life that we lead will 
shortly pass away from the plains as completely 
as the red and white hunters who have vanished 
from before our herds. The free, open-air life of 
the ranchman, the pleasantest and healthiest life 
in America, is from its very nature ephemeral. 
The broad and boundless prairies have already 
been bounded and will soon be made narrow. It 
is scarcely a figure of speech to say that the tide 
of white settlement during the last few years has 
risen over the West like a flood; and the cattle- 
men are but the spray from the crest of the wave, 
thrown far in advance, but soon to be overtaken. 
As the settlers throng into the lands and seize the 
good ground, especially that near the streams, 
the great fenceless ranches, where the cattle and 
their mounted herdsmen wandered unchecked 
over hundreds of thousands of acres, will be broken 
up and divided into corn land, or else into small 
grazing farms where a few hundred head of stock 
are closely watched and taken care of. Of course, 
the most powerful ranches, owned by wealthy cor- 
porations or individuals, and already firmly rooted 
in the soil, will long resist this crowding ; in places, 
where the ground is not suited to agriculture, or 
where, through the old Spanish land-grants, the 
title has been acquired to a great tract of terri- 
tory, cattle ranching will continue for a long time, 
though in a greatly modified form; elsewhere, I 



24 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

doubt if it lasts out the present century. Im- 
mense sums of money have been made at it in 
the past, and it is still fairly profitable; but the 
good grounds (aside from those reserved for the 
Indians) are now almost all taken up, and it is too 
late for new men to start at it on their own ac- 
count, unless in exceptional cases, or where an 
Indian reservation is thrown open. Those that 
are now in will continue to make money; but 
most of those who hereafter take it up will lose. 

The profits of the business are great; but the 
chances for loss are great, also. A winter of un- 
usual severity will work sad havoc among the 
young cattle, especially the heifers; sometimes a 
disease, like the Texas cattle-fever, will take off a 
whole herd; and many animals stray and are not 
recovered. In fall, when the grass is like a mass 
of dry and brittle tinder, the fires do much dam- 
age, reducing the prairies to blackened deserts as 
far as the eye can see, and destroying feed which 
would keep many thousand head of stock during 
winter. Then we hold in about equal abhor- 
rence the granger who may come in to till the 
land, and the sheep-owner who drives his flocks 
over it. The former will gradually fill up the 
country to our own exclusion, while the latter's 
sheep nibble the grass off so close to the ground 
as to starve out all other animals. 

Then we suffer some loss — in certain regions, 



Ranchinof in the Bad Lands 25 



^& 



very severe loss — from wild beasts, such as cou- 
gars, wolves, and lynxes. The latter, generally 
called "bob-cats," merely make inroads on the 
hen-roosts (one of them destroyed half my poul- 
try, coming night after night with most praise- 
worthy regularity), but the cougars and wolves 
destroy many cattle. 

The wolf is not very common with us ; nothing 
like as plentiful as the little coyote, A few years 
ago both wolves and coyotes were very nimierous 
on the plains, and as Indians and hunters rarely 
molested them, they were then very unsuspicious. 
But all this is changed now. When the cattlemen 
came in they soon perceived in the wolves their 
natural foes, and followed them unrelentingly. 
They shot at and chased them on all occasions, 
and killed great numbers by poisoning ; and, as a 
consequence, the comparatively few that are left 
are as wary and cunning beasts as exist anywhere. 
They hardly ever stir abroad by day, and hence are 
rarely shpt or indeed seen. During the last three 
years these brutes have killed nearly a score of my 
cattle, and in return we have poisoned six or eight 
wolves and a couple of dozen coyotes; yet in all 
our riding we have not seen so much as a single 
wolf, and only rarely a coyote. The coyotes kill 
sheep and, occasionally, very young calves, but 
never meddle with anything larger. The stock- 
man fears only the large wolves. 



26 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

According to my experience, the wolf is rather 
soHtary. A single one or a pair will be found by 
themselves, or possibly with one or more well- 
grown young ones, and will then hunt over a 
large tract where no other wolves will be found; 
and as they wander very far, and as their melan- 
choly howlings have a most ventriloquial effect, 
they are often thought to be much more plentiful 
than they are. During the daytime they lie hid 
in caves or in some patch of bush, and will let a 
man pass right by them without betraying their 
presence. Occasionally, somebody runs across 
them by accident. A neighboring ranchman to 
me once stumbled, while riding an unshod pony, 
right into the midst of four wolves, who were ly- 
ing in some tall, rank grass, and shot one with his 
revolver and crippled another before they could 
get away. But such an accident as this is very 
rare; and when, by any chance, the wolf is him- 
self abroad in the daytime he keeps such a sharp 
lookout, and is so wary, that it is almost impos- 
sible to get near him, and he gives every human 
being a wide berth. At night it is different. The 
wolves then wander far and wide, often coming up 
round the outbuildings of the ranches; I have 
seen in light snow the tracks of two that had 
walked round the house within fifty feet of it. I 
have never heard of an instance where a man was 
attacked or threatened by them, but they will at 



Ranchino^ in the Bad Lands 27 



times kill every kind of domestic animal. They 
are fond of trying to catch young foals, but do not 
often succeed, for the mares and foals keep to- 
gether in a kind of straggling band, and the foal 
is early able to run at good speed for a short dis- 
tance. When attacked the mare and foal dash 
off towards the rest of the band, which gathers to- 
gether at once, the foals pressing into the middle 
and the mares remaining on the outside, not in a 
ring with their heels out, but moving in and out, 
and forming a solid mass into which the wolves 
do not venture. Full-grown horses are rarely 
molested, while a stallion becomes himself the 
assailant. 

In early spring, when the cows are beginning to 
calve, the wolves sometimes wait upon the herds 
as they did of old on the buffalo, and snap up any 
calf that strays away from its mother. When 
hard pressed by hunger, they will kill a steer or a 
heifer, choosing the bitterest and coldest night to 
make the attack. The prey is invariably seized 
by the haunch or flank, and its entrails afterwards 
torn out; while a cougar, on the contrary, grasps 
the neck or throat. Wolves have very strong 
teeth and jaws and inflict a most severe bite. 
They will in winter come up to the yards and carry 
away a sheep, pig, or dog, without much difficulty ; 
I have known one which had tried to seize a sheep, 
and been prevented by the sheep-dogs, to canter 



28 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

of! with one of the latter instead. But a spirited 
dog will always attack a wolf. On the ranch next 
below mine there was a plucky bull terrier, weigh- 
ing about twenty-five pounds, who lost his life 
owing to his bravery. On one moonlight night 
three wolves came rotind the stable, and the ter- 
rier sallied out promptly. He made such a quick 
rush as to take his opponents by surprise, and 
seized one by the throat ; nor did he let go till the 
other two tore him almost asunder across the 
loins. Better luck attended a large mongrel, 
called a sheep-dog by his master, but whose blood 
was apparently about equally derived from collie, 
Newfoundland, and bulldog. He was a sullen but 
very intelligent and determined brute, power- 
fully built and with strong jaws, and, though 
neither as tall nor as heavy as a wolf, he had yet 
killed two of these animals single-handed. One of 
them had come into the farmyard at night, and 
taken a young pig, whose squeals roused everybody. 
The wolf loped off with his booty, the dog running 
after him and overtaking him in the darkness. 
The struggle w^as short, for the dog had seized the 
wolf by the throat and the latter could not shake 
him off, though he made the most desperate ef- 
forts, rising on his hind legs and pressing the dog 
down with his fore paws. This time the victor 
escaped scatheless, but in his second fight, when 
he strangled a still larger wolf, he was severely 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 29 

punished. The wolf had seized a sheep, when the 
dog, rushing on him, caused him to leave his 
quarry. Instead of running, he turned to bay at 
once, taking off one of the assailant's ears with a 
rapid snap. The dog did not get a good hold, and 
the wolf scored him across the shoulders and flung 
him off. They then faced each other for a minute 
and at the next dash the dog made good his throat 
hold, and throttled the wolf, though the latter con- 
trived to get his foe's foreleg into his jaws and 
broke it clear through. When I saw the dog he 
had completely recovered, although pretty well 
scarred. 

On another neighboring ranch there is a most 
ill-favored hybrid, whose mother was a New- 
foundland and whose father was a large wolf. It 
is stoutly built, with erect ears, pointed muzzle, 
rather short head, short bushy tail, and of a brin- 
dled color; funnily enough, it looks more like a 
hyena than like either of its parents. It is fa- 
miliar with people and a good cattle-dog, but 
rather treacherous ; it both barks and howls. The 
parent wolf carried on a long courtship with the 
Newfoundland. He came round the ranch regu- 
larly and boldly, every night, and she would at 
once go out to him. In the daylight he would lie 
hid in the bushes at some little distance. Once 
or twice his hiding-place was discovered, and then 
the men would amuse themselves by setting the 



30 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

Newfoundland on him. She would make at him, 
but when they were a good way from the men he 
would turn round and wait for her and they 
would go romping off together, not to be seen 
again for several hours. 

The cougar is hardly ever seen round my 
ranch; but toward the mountains it is very de- 
structive both to horses and horned cattle. The 
ranchmen know it by the name of mountain lion ; 
and it is the same beast that in the East is called 
panther or "painter." The cougar is the same 
size and build as the Old World leopard, and with 
very much the same habits. One will generally 
lie in wait for the heifers or young steers as they 
come down to water, and, singling out an ani- 
mal, reach it in a couple of bounds and fasten its 
fangs in the throat or neck. I have seen quite a 
large cow that had been killed by a cougar; and 
on another occasion, while out hunting over light 
snow, I came across a place where two bucks, 
while fighting, had been stalked up to by a cougar 
which pulled down one and tore him in pieces. 
The cougar's gait is silent and stealthy, to an ex- 
traordinary degree; the look of the animal when 
creeping up to his prey has been wonderfully 
caught by the sculptor, Kemeys, in his bronzes: 
"The Still Hunt" and "The Silent Footfall." 

I have never myself killed a cougar, though my 
brother shot one in Texas, while still-himting some 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 31 

deer, which the cougar itself was after. It never 
attacks man, and even when hard pressed and 
wounded turns to bay with extreme reluctance, 
and at the first chance again seeks safety in flight. 
This was certainly not the case in old times, but 
the nature of the animal has been so changed by 
constant contact with rifle-bearing hunters, that 
timidity toward them has become a hereditary 
trait deeply engrained in its nature. When the 
continent was first settled, and for long afterward, 
the cougar was quite as dangerous an antagonist 
as the African or Indian leopard, and would even 
attack men unprovoked. An instance of this 
occurred in the annals of my mother's family. 
Early in the present century, one of my ancestral 
relatives, a Georgian, moved down to the wild and 
almost unknown country bordering on Florida. 
His plantation was surrounded by jungles in which 
all kinds of wild beasts swarmed. One of his ne- 
groes had a sweetheart on another plantation, and 
in visiting her, instead of going by the road, he 
took a short cut through the swamps, heedless of 
the wild beasts, and armed only with a long knife 
— for he was a man of colossal strength, and of 
fierce and determined temper. One night he 
started to return late, expecting to reach the plan- 
tation in time for his daily task on the morrow. 
But he never reached home, and it was thought 
he had run away. However, when search was 



32 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

made for him his body was found in the path 
through the swamp, all gashed and torn, and, but 
a few steps from him, the body of a cougar, 
stabbed and cut in many places. Certainly, that 
must have been a grim fight, in the gloomy, lonely 
recesses of the swamp, with no one to watch the 
midnight death-struggle between the powerful, 
naked man and the ferocious brute that was his 
almost unseen assailant. 

When hungry, a cougar will attack anything it 
can master. I have known of their killing wolves 
and large dogs. A friend of mine, a ranchman in 
Wyoming, had two grizzly bear cubs in his pos- 
session at one time, and they were kept in a pen 
outside the ranch. One night two cougars came 
down, and after vain efforts to catch a dog which 
was on the place, leaped into the pen and carried 
off the two young bears ! 

Two or three powerful dogs, however, will give 
a cougar all he wants to do to defend himself. A 
relative of mine in one of the Southern States had 
a small pack of five blood-hounds, with which he 
used to hunt the canebrakes for bear, wildcats, 
etc. On one occasion they ran across a cougar, 
and after a sharp chase treed him. As the 
hunters drew near, he leaped from the tree and 
made off, but was overtaken by the hoimds and 
torn to pieces after a sharp struggle, in which one 
or two of the pack were badly scratched. 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 33 

Cougars are occasionally killed by poisoning, 
and they may be trapped much more easily than 
a wolf. I have never known them to be syste- 
matically hunted in the West, though now and 
then one is accidentally run across and killed with 
the rifle while the hunter is after some other 
game. 

As already said, ranchmen do not have much 
idle time on their hands, for their duties are 
manifold, and they need to be ever on the watch 
against their foes, both animate and inanimate. 
Where a man has so much to do, he cannot spare 
a great deal of time for any amusement; but a 
good part of that which the ranchman can spare 
he is very apt to spend in hunting. His quarry 
will be one of the seven kinds of plains game — 
bear, buffalo, elk, bighorn, antelope, blacktail or 
whitetail deer. Moose, caribou, and white goat 
never come down into the cattle country ; and it is 
only on the Southern ranches near the Rio Grande 
and the Rio Colorado that the truculent peccary 
and the great spotted jaguar are found. 

Until recently, all sporting on the plains was 
confined to army officers, or to men of leisure who 
made extensive trips for no other purpose ; leaving 
out of consideration the professional hunters, who 
trapped and shot for their livelihood. But with 
the incoming of the cattlemen, there grew up a 
a class of residents, men with a stake in the welfare 

VOL. I.— 3 



34 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

of the country, and with a regular business car- . 
ried on in it, many of whom were keenly devoted 
to sport, — a class whose members were in many 
respects closely akin to the old Southern planters. 
In this book I propose to give some description of 
the kind of sport that can be had by the average 
ranchman who is fond of the rifle. Of course, no 
man with a regular business can have such oppor- 
tunities as fall to the lot of some who pass their 
lives in hunting only; and we cannot pretend to 
equal the achievements of such men, for with us 
it is merely a pleasure, to be eagerly sought after 
when we have the chance, but not to be allowed 
to interfere with our business. No ranchmen 
have time to make such extended trips as are 
made by some devotees of sport who are so fortu- 
nate as to have no everyday work to which to at- 
tend. Still, ranch life tmdoubtedly offers more 
chances to a man to get sport than is now the 
case with any other occupation in America, and 
those who follow it are apt to be men of game 
spirit, fond of excitement and adventure, who 
perforce lead an open-air life, who must needs 
ride well, for they are often in the saddle from 
sunrise to sunset, and who naturally take kindly 
to that noblest of weapons, the rifle. With such 
men hunting is one of the chief of pleasures ; and 
they follow it eagerly when their work will allow 
them. And with some of them it is at times more 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 35 

than a pleasure. On many of the ranches — on 
my own, for instance — the supply of fresh meat 
depends mainly on the skill of the riflemen, and 
so, both for pleasure and profit, most ranchmen 
do a certain amount of hunting each season. The 
buffalo are now gone forever, and the elk are rap- 
idly sharing their fate ; but antelope and deer are 
still quite plenty, and will remain so for some 
years; and these are the common game of the 
plainsman. Nor is it likely that the game will 
disappear much before ranch life itself is a thing 
of the past. It is a phase of American life as fas- 
cinating as it is evanescent, and one well deserving 
an historian. But in these pages I propose to 
dwell on only one of its many pleasant sides, and 
to give some idea of the game-shooting which forms 
perhaps the chief of the cattleman's pleasures, 
aside from those more strictly connected with his 
actual work. I have to tell of no unusual adven- 
tures, but merely of just such hunting as lies 
within reach of most of the sport-loving ranchmen 
whose cattle range along the waters of the Pow- 
der and the Bighorn, the Little Missouri and the 
Yellowstone. 

Of course I have never myself gone out hunting 
under the direction of a professional guide or 
professional hunter, unless it was to see one of 
the latter who was reputed a crack shot; all 
of my trips have been made either by myself or 



36 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

else with one of my cowboys as a companion. 
Most of the so-called hunters are not worth 
much. There are plenty of men hanging round 
the frontier settlements who claim to be hunters, 
and who bedizen themselves in all the traditional 
finery of the craft, in the hope of getting a job 
at guiding some "tenderfoot"; and there are 
plenty of skin-hunters, or meat-hunters, who, after 
the Indians have been driven away and when 
means of communication have been established, 
mercilessly slaughter the game in season and out, 
being too lazy to work at any regular trade, and 
keeping on hunting until the animals become too 
scarce and shy to be taken without more skill 
than they possess; but these are all mere tem- 
porary excrescences, and the true old Rocky 
Mountain hunter and trapper, the plainsman, or 
mountain man, who, with all his faults, was a 
man of iron nerve and will, is now almost a thing 
of the past. In the place of these heroes of a by- 
gone age, the men who were clad in buckskin and 
who carried long rifles, stands, or rather rides, the 
bronzed and sinewy cowboy, as picturesque and 
self-reliant, as dashing and resolute as the sat- 
urnine Indian fighters whose place he has taken ; 
and, alas that it should be written! he in his turn 
must at no distant time share the fate of the men 
he has displaced. The ground over which he so 
gallantly rides his small, wiry horse will soon know 



Ranching in the Bad Lands zi 

him no more, and in his stead there will be the 
plodding grangers and husbandmen. I suppose 
it is right and for the best that the great cattle 
coimtry, with its broad extent of fenceless land, 
over which the ranchman rides as free as the game 
that he follows or the horned herds that he guards, 
should be in the end broken up into small patches 
of fenced farm land and grazing land ; but I hope 
against hope that I myself shall not live to see this 
take place, for when it does one of the pleasantest 
and freest phases of Western American life will 
have come to an end. 

The old hunters were a class by themselves. 
They penetrated, alone or in small parties, to the 
farthest and wildest haunts of the animals they 
followed, leading a solitary, lonely Hfe, often 
never seeing a white face for months and even 
years together. They were skilful shots, and 
were cool, daring, and resolute to the verge of 
recklessness. On anything like even terms, they 
very greatly overmatched the Indians by whom 
they were surrounded, and with whom they waged 
constant and ferocious war. In the government 
expeditions against the plains tribes they were of 
absolutely invaluable assistance as scouts. They 
rarely had regular wives or white children, and 
there are none to take their places, now that the 
greater part of them have gone. For the men who 
carry on hunting as a business where it is perfectly 



38 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

safe have all the vices of their prototypes, but, not 
having to face the dangers that beset the latter, 
so neither need nor possess the stem, rough vir- 
tues that were required in order to meet and over- 
come them. The ranks of the skin-hunters and 
meat-hunters contain some good men; but, as a 
rule, they are a most unlovely race of beings, not 
excelling even in the pursuit which they follow be- 
cause they are too shiftless to do anything else; 
and the sooner they vanish the better. 

A word as to weapons and hunting-dress. When 
I first came to the plains I had a heavy Sharps 
rifle, 45-120, shooting an ounce and a quarter of 
lead, and a 50-calibre, double-barrelled English 
express. Both of these, especially the latter, had 
a vicious recoil ; the former was very clumsy ; and, 
above all, they were neither of them repeaters; 
for a repeater or magazine-gun is as much superior 
to a single- or double-barrelled breech-loader as the 
latter is to a muzzle-loader. I threw them both 
aside : and have instead a 40-90 Sharps for very 
long range work; a 50-115 6-shot Ballard express, 
which has the velocity, shock, and low trajectory 
of the English gun; and, better than either, a 
45-75 half -magazine Winchester. The Winches- 
ter, which is stocked and sighted to suit my- 
self, is by all odds the best weapon I ever had, and 
I now use it almost exclusively, having killed every 
kind of game with it, from a grizzly bear to a big- 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 39 

horn. It is as handy to carry, whether on foot or 
on horseback, and comes up to the shoulder as 
readily as a shot-gun; it is absolutely sure, and 
there is no recoil to jar and disturb the aim, while 
it carries accurately quite as far as a man can aim 
with any degree of certainty ; and the bullet, weigh- 
ing three quarters of an ounce, is plenty large 
enough for anything on this continent. For shoot- 
ing the very large game (buffalo, elephants, etc.) 
of India and South Africa, much heavier rifles are 
undoubtedly necessary ; but the Winchester is the 
best gun for any game to be found in the United 
States, for it is as deadly, accurate, and handy as 
any, stands very rough usage, and is unapproach- 
able for the rapidity of its fire and the facility 
with which it is loaded. 

Of course, every ranchman carries a revolver, a 
long 45 Colt or Smith & Wesson, by preference 
the former. When after game a hunting-knife is 
stuck in the girdle. This should be stout and 
sharp, but not too long, with a round handle. I 
have two double-barrelled shot-guns: a No. lo 
choke-bore for ducks and geese, made by Thomas 
of Chicago; and a No. i6 hammerless, built for me 
by Kennedy of St. Paul, for grouse and plover. 
On regular hunting trips, I always carry the Win- 
chester rifle, but in riding round near home, where 
a man may see a deer and is sure to come across 
ducks and grouse, it is best to take the little ranch 



40 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

gun, a double-barrel No. i6, with a 40-70 rifle 
underneath the shot-gun barrels. 

As for clothing, when only off on a day's trip 
the ordinary ranchman's dress is good enough: 
flannel shirt and overalls tucked into alligator 
boots, the latter being of service against the bram- 
bles, cacti, and rattlesnakes. Such a costume is 
good in warm weather. When making a long 
hunting trip, where there will be much rough work, 
especially in the dry cold of fall and winter, there 
is nothing better than a fringed buckskin tunic or 
hunting-shirt (held in at the waist by the car- 
tridge belt), buckskin trousers, and a fur cap, 
with heavy moccasins for use in the woods, and 
light alligator-hide shoes if it is intended to cross 
rocks and open ground. Buckskin is most dur- 
able, keeps out wind and cold, and is the best pos- 
sible color for the hunter — no small point in 
approaching game. For wet, it is not as good as 
flannel, and it is hot in warm weather. On very 
cold days, fur gloves and either a coonskin over- 
coat or a short riding-jacket of fisher's fur may be 
worn. In cold weather, if travelling light with 
only what can be packed behind the horse, I sleep 
in a big buffalo-robe, sewed up at the sides and one 
end into the form of a bag, and very warm. When, 
as is sometimes the case, the spirit in the ther- 
mometer sinks to — 6o°-65° Fahrenheit, it is ne- 
cessary to have more wraps and bedding, and we 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 41 

use beaver-robes and bearskins. An oilskin 
"slicker" or waterproof overcoat and a pair of 
shaps keep out the rain almost completely. 

Where most of the hunting is done on horseback 
the hunting-pony is a very important animal. 
Many people seem to think that any broken- 
down pony will do to hunt, but this seems to me 
a very great mistake. My own hunting-horse, 
Manitou, is the best and most valuable animal on 
the ranch. He is stoutly built and strong, able 
to carry a good-sized buck behind his rider for 
miles at a lope without minding it in the least ; he 
is very enduring and very hardy, not only pick- 
ing up a living but even growing fat when left to 
shift for himself under very hard conditions ; and 
he is perfectly sure-footed and as fast as any horse 
on the river. Though both willing and spirited, 
he is very gentle, with an easy mouth, and will 
stay grazing in one spot when left, and will permit 
himself to be caught without difficulty. Add to 
these virtues the fact that he will let any dead 
beast or thing be packed on him, and will allow a 
man to shoot off his back or right by him without 
moving, and it is evident that he is as nearly per- 
fect as can be the case with hunting-horseflesh. 
There is a little sorrel mare on the ranch, a perfect 
little pet, that is almost as good, but too small. 
We have some other horses we frequently use, 
but all have faults. Some of the quiet ones 



42 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

are slow, lazy, or tire easily ; others are gun-shy ; 
while others plunge and buck if we try to pack 
any game on their backs. Others cannot be left 
standing untied, as they run away ; and I can im- 
agine few forms of exercise so soul-harrowing as 
that of spending an hour or two in running, in 
shaps, top-boots, and spurs, over a broken prairie, 
with the thermometer at 90°, after an escaped 
horse. Most of the hunting-horses used by my 
friends have one or more of these tricks, and it is 
rare to find one, like Manitou, who has none of 
them. Manitou is a treasure, and I value him ac- 
cordingly. Besides, he is a sociable old fellow, 
and a great companion when off alone, coming up 
to have his head rubbed or to get a crust of bread, 
of which he is very fond. 

To be remarkably successful in killing game, a 
man must be a good shot ; but a good target-shot 
may be a very poor hunter, and a fairly successful 
hunter may be only a moderate shot. Shooting 
well with the rifle is the highest kind of skill, for 
the rifle is the queen of weapons ; and it is a diffi- 
cult art to learn. But many other qualities go to 
make up the first-class hunter. He must be per- 
severing, watchful, hardy, and with good judg- 
ment; and a little dash and energy at the proper 
time often help him immensely. I myself am not, 
and never will be, more than an ordinary shot; 
for my eyes are bad and my hand not over- 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 43 

steady ; yet I have killed every kind of game to be 
found on the plains, partly because I have hunted 
very perseveringly, and partly because by prac- 
tice I have learned to shoot about as well at a 
wild animal as at a target. I have killed rather 
more game than most of the ranchmen who are 
my neighbors, though at least half of them are 
better shots than I am. 

Time and again I have seen a man who had, 
as he deemed, practised sufficiently at a target, 
come out " to kill a deer " hot with enthusiasm ; and 
nine outof ten times he has gone back unsuccessful, 
even when deer were quite plenty. Usually, he has 
been told by the friend who advised him to take 
the trip, or by the guide who inveigled him into 
it, that "the deer were so plenty you saw them 
all round you," and, this not proving quite true, 
he lacks perseverance to keep on ; or else he fails 
to see the deer at the right time ; or else, if he does 
see it he misses it, making the discovery that to 
shoot at a gray object, not over distinctly seen, 
at a distance merely guessed at, and with a back- 
ground of other gray objects, is very different 
from firing into a target, brightly painted and 
a fixed number of yards off. A man must be able 
to hit a bull's-eye eight inches across every time 
to do good work with deer or other game ; for the 
spot around the shoulders that is fatal is not much 
bigger than this ; and a shot a little back of that 



44 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

merely makes a wound which may in the end 
prove mortal, but which will in all probability 
allow the animal to escape for the time being. It 
takes a good shot to hit a bull's-eye offhand 
several times in succession at a hundred yards, and 
if the bull's-eye was painted the same color as the 
rest of the landscape, and was at an uncertain 
distance, and, moreover, was alive, and likely to 
take to its heels at any moment, the difficulty of 
making a good shot would be greatly enhanced. 
The man who can kill his buck right along at a 
hundred yards has a right to claim that he is a 
good shot. If he can shoot offhand standing up, 
that is much the best way, but I myself always 
drop on one knee, if I have time, unless the animal 
is very close. It is curious to hear the nonsense 
that is talked and to see the nonsense that is writ- 
ten about the distance at which game is killed. 
Rifles now carry with deadly effect the distance 
of a mile, and most middle-range hunting-rifles 
would at least kill at half a mile ; and in war firing 
is often begun at these ranges. But in war there 
is very little accurate aiming, and the fact that 
there is a variation of thirty or forty feet in the 
flight of the ball makes no difference ; and, finally, 
a thousand bullets are fired for every man that is 
killed — and usually many more than a thousand. 
How would that serve for a record on game ? The 
truth is that three hundred yards is a very long 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 45 

shot, and that even two hundred yards is a long 
shot. On looking over my game-book I find 
that the average distance at which I have 
killed game on the plains is less than a hundred 
and fifty yards. A few years ago, when the buf- 
falo would stand still in great herds half a mile 
from the hunter, the latter, using a long-range 
Sharps rifle, would often, by firing a number of 
shots into the herd at that distance, knock over 
two or three buffalo; but I have hardly ever 
known single animals to be killed six hundred 
yards off, even in antelope hunting, the kind in 
which most long-range shooting is done; and at 
half that distance a very good shot, with all the 
surroundings in his favor, is more apt to miss 
than to hit. Of course old hunters — the most 
inveterate liars on the face of the earth — are all 
the time telling of their wonderful shots at even 
longer distances, and they do occasionally, when 
shooting very often, make them, but their per- 
formances, when actually tested, dwindle amaz- 
ingly. Others, amateurs, will brag of their rifles. 
I lately read in a magazine about killing ante- 
lopes at eight hundred yards with a Winchester 
express, a weapon which cannot be depended 
upon at over two hundred, and is wholly inaccu- 
rate at over three hundred, yards. 

The truth is that in almost all cases the hun- 
ter merely guesses at the distance, and, often 



46 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

perfectly honestly, just about doubles it in his own 
mind. Once a man told me of an extraordinary 
shot by which he killed a deer at four himdred 
yards. A couple of days afterward we happened 
to pass the place, and I had the curiosity to step 
off the distance, finding it a trifle over a hundred 
and ninety. I always make it a rule to pace off 
the distance after a successful shot, whenever prac- 
ticable — that is, when the animal has not run too 
far before dropping — and I was at first both 
amused and somewhat chagrined to see how rapidly 
what I had supposed to be remarkably long shots 
shrank under actual pacing. It is a good rule 
always to try to get as near the game as possible, 
and in most cases it is best to risk startling it in the 
effort to get closer rather than to risk missing it 
by a shot at long range. At the same time, I am 
a great believer in powder-burning, and if I can- 
not get near, will generally try a shot anyhow, if 
there is a chance of the rifle's carrying to it. In 
this way a man will now and then, in the midst of 
many misses, make a very good long shot, but he 
should not try to deceive himself into the belief 
that these occasional long shots are to be taken as 
samples of his ordinary skill. Yet it is curious 
to see how a really truthful man will forget his 
misses, and his hits at close quarters, and, by 
dint of constant repetition, will finally persuade 
himself that he is in the habit of killing his game 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 47 

at three or four hundred yards. Of course, in 
different kinds of ground the average range for 
shooting varies. In the Bad Lands most shots 
will be obtained much closer than on the prairie, 
and in the timber they will be nearer still. 

Old hunters, who are hardy, persevering, and 
well acquainted with the nature of the animals they 
pursue, will often kill a great deal of game with- 
out being particularly good marksmen; besides, 
they are careful to get up close, and are not flur- 
ried at all, shooting as well at a deer as they do at 
a target. They are, as a rule, fair shots — that is, 
they shoot a great deal better than Indians or sol- 
diers, or than the general run of Eastern amateur 
sportsmen; but I have never been out with one 
who has not missed a great deal, and the " Leather- 
stocking" class of shooting stories are generally 
untrue, at least to the extent of suppressing part 
of the truth — that is, the number of misses. Be- 
yond question, our Western hunters are, as a 
body, to the full as good marksmen as, and prob- 
ably much better than, any other body of men in 
the world, not even excepting the Dutch Boers 
or Tyrolese Jagers, and a certain number of them 
who shoot a great deal at game, and are able to 
squander cartridges very freely, undoubtedly be- 
come crack shots, and perform really wonderful 
feats. As an instance, there is old "Vic," a for- 
mer scout and Indian fighter, and concededly the 



48 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

best hunter on the Little Missouri ; probably there 
are not a dozen men in the West who are better 
shots or hunters than he is, and I have seen him 
do most skilful work. He can run the muzzle of his 
rifle through a board so as to hide the sights and 
yet do quite good shooting at some little distance ; 
he will cut the head off a chicken at eighty or 
ninety yards, shoot a deer running through brush 
at that distance, kill grouse on the wing early in 
the season, and knock over antelopes when they 
are so far off that I should not dream of shooting. 
He firmly believes, and so do most men that 
speak of him, that he never misses. Yet I have 
known him make miss after miss at game, and 
some that were not especially difficult shots either. 
One secret of his success is his constant practice. 
He is firing all the time, at marks, small birds, 
etc., and will average from fifty to a hundred 
cartridges a day ; he certainly uses nearly twenty 
thousand a year, while a man who only shoots for 
sport, and that occasionally, will, in practising at 
marks and everything else, hardly get through 
with five hundred. Besides, he was cradled in 
the midst of wild life, and has handled a rifle 
and used it against both brute and human foes 
almost since his infancy; his nerves and sinews 
are like iron, and his eye is naturally both quick 
and true. 

Vic is an exception. With practice an ama- 



Ranching in the Bad Lands 49 

teur will become nearly as good a shot as the aver- 
age hunter ; and, as I said before, I do not myself 
believe in taking out a professional hunter as a 
shooting companion. If I do not go alone I gen- 
erally go with one of my foremen, Merrifield, who 
himself came from the East but five years ago. 
He is a good-looking fellow, daring and self- 
reliant, a good rider and a first-class shot, and a 
very keen sportsman. Of late years he has been 
my f,dus Achates of the hunting field. I can kill 
more game with him than I can alone ; and in hunt- 
ing on the plains there are many occasions on 
which it is almost a necessity to have a compan- 
ion along. 

It frequently happens that a solitary hunter finds 
himself in an awkward predicament, from which 
he could be extricated easily enough if there were 
another man with him. His horse may fall into 
a wash-out, or may get stuck in a mud-hole or 
quicksand in such a manner that a man working 
by himself will have great difficulty in getting it 
out; and two heads often prove better than one 
in an emergency, especially if a man gets hurt in 
any way. The first thing that a Western plains- 
man has to learn is the capacity for self-help, but 
at the same time he must not forget that oc- 
casions may arise when the help of others will be 
most grateful. 

VOL. 1,-4 



CHAPTER II 

WATERFOWL 

ONE cool afternoon in the early fall, while 
sitting on the veranda of the ranch-house, 
we heard a long way ofE the ha-ha-honk, 
ha-honk, of a gang of wild geese ; and shortly after 
they came in sight, in a V-shaped line, flying low 
and heavily toward the south, along the course 
of the stream. They went by within a hundred 
yards of the house, and we watched them for 
some minutes as they flew up the valley, for they 
were so low in the air that it seemed certain that 
they would soon alight ; and alight they did when 
they were less than a mile past us. As the ground 
was flat and without much cover where they had 
settled, I took the rifle instead of a shot-gun and 
hurried after them on foot. Wild geese are very | 

watchful and wary, and as I came toward the \ 

place where I thought they were I crept along 
with as much caution as if the game had been a 
deer. At last, peering through a thick clump of 
bullberry bushes, I saw them. They were clus- 
tered on a high sand-bar in the middle of the river, 
which here ran in a very wide bed between low 
banks. The only way to get at them was to 

50 



Waterfowl 51 

crawl along the river-bed, which was partly dry, 
using the patches of rushes and the sand hillocks 
and driftwood to shield myself from their view. 
As it was already late and the sun was just sinking, 
I hastily retreated a few paces, dropped over the 
bank, and began to creep along on my hands and 
knees through the sand and gravel. Such work 
is always tiresome, and is especially so when done 
against time. I kept in line with a great log 
washed up on the shore, which was some seventy- 
five yards from the geese. On reaching it and 
looking over I was annoyed to find that in the 
fading light I could not distinguish the birds 
clearly enough to shoot, as the dark river bank was 
behind them. I crawled quickly back a few yards, 
and went off a good bit to the left into a hollow. 
Peeping over the edge I could now see the geese, 
gathered into a clump with their necks held 
straight out, sharply outlined against the horizon ; 
the sand fiats stretching out on either side, while 
the sky above was barred with gray and faint crim- 
son. I fired into the thickest of the bunch, and 
as the rest flew off, with discordant clamor, ran 
forward and picked up my victim, a fat young 
wild goose (or Canada goose), the body badly 
torn by the bullet. 

On two other occasions I have killed geese with 
the rifle. Once while out riding along the river 
bottoms, just at dawn, my attention was drawn 



52 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

to a splashing and low cackling in the stream, 
where the water deepened in a wide bend, which 
swept round a low bluff. Leaving my horse 
where he was, I walked off towards the edge of 
the stream, and lying on the brink of the bank 
looked over into the water of the bend. Only a 
faint streak of light was visible in the east, so that 
objects on the water could hardly be made out; 
and the little wreaths of mist that rose from the 
river made the difficulty even greater. The birds 
were some distance above me, where the water 
made a long straight stretch through a sandy level. 
I could not see them, but could plainly hear their 
low murmuring and splashing, and once one of 
them, as I judged by the sound, stood up on endand 
flapped its wings vigorously. Pretty soon a light 
puff of wind blew the thin mist aside, and I caught 
a glimpse of them ; as I had supposed, they were 
wild geese, five of them, swimming slowly, or 
rather resting on the water, and being drifted 
down with the current. The fog closed over 
them again, but it was growing light very rapidly, 
and in a short time I knew they would be in the 
still water of the bend just below me, so I rose on 
my elbows and held my rifle ready at poise. In 
a few minutes, before the sun was above the hori- 
zon, but when there was plenty of light by which to 
shoot, another eddy in the wind blew away the 
vapor and showed the five geese in a cluster, some 



Hunting Wild Geese. 



Waterfowl 53 



thirty yards off. I fired at once, and one of the 
geese, kicking and flapping frantically, fell over, 
its neck half cut from the body, while the others, 
with laborious effort, got under way. Before they 
could get their heavy bodies fairly off the water 
and out of range, I had taken three more shots, 
but missed. Waiting till the dead goose drifted 
in to shore, I picked it up and tied it on the saddle 
of my horse to carry home to the ranch. Being 
young and fat it was excellent eating. 

The third goose I killed with the rifle was of a 
different kind. I had been out after antelopes, 
starting before there was any light in the heavens, 
and pushing straight out towards the rolling prairie. 
After two or three hours, when the sun was well up, 
I neared where a creek ran in a broad, shallow val- 
ley. I had seen no game, and before coming up to 
the crest of the divide beyond which lay the creek 
bottom, I dismounted and crawled up to it, so as 
to see if any animal had come down to drink. 
Field-glasses are almost always carried while hunt- 
ing on the plains, as the distances at which one can 
see game are so enormous. On looking over the 
crest with the glasses the valley of the creek 
for about a mile was stretched before me. At my 
feet the low hills came closer together than in 
other places, and shelved abruptly down to the 
bed of the valley, where there was a small grove 
of box-alders and cottonw^oods. The beavers 



54 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

had, in times gone by, built a large dam at this 
place across the creek, which must have produced 
a great back-flow and made a regular little lake 
in the times of freshets. But the dam was now 
broken, and the beavers, or most of them, gone, 
and in the place of the lake was a long green 
meadow. Glancing towards this my eye was at 
once caught by a row of white objects stretched 
straight across it, and another look showed me that 
they were snow-geese. They were feeding, and 
were moving abreast of one another slowly down 
the length of the meadow towards the end nearest 
me, where the patch of small trees and brushwood 
lay. A goose is not as big game as an antelope; 
still I had never shot a snow-goose, and we needed 
fresh meat, so I slipped back over the crest and 
ran down to the bed of the creek, round a turn of 
the hill, where the geese were out of sight. The 
creek was not an entirely dry one, but there was 
no depth of water in it except in certain deep 
holes ; elsewhere it was a muddy ditch with steep 
sides, difficult to cross on horseback because of 
the quicksands. I walked up to the trees with- 
out any special care, as they screened me from 
view, and looked cautiously out from behind them. 
The geese were acting just as our tame geese act 
in feeding on a common, moving along with their 
necks stretched out before them, nibbling and jerk- 
ing at the grass as they tore it up by mouthfuls. 



Waterfowl 55 

They were very watchful, and one or the other of 
them had its head straight in the air looking 
sharply round all the time. Geese will not come 
near any cover in which foes may be lurking if 
they can help it, and so I feared that they would 
turn before coming near enough to the brush to 
give me a good shot. I therefore dropped into 
the bed of the creek, which wound tortuously 
along the side of the meadow, and crept on all 
fours along one of its banks until I came to where 
it made a loop out towards the middle of the bot- 
tom. Here there was a tuft of tall grass, which 
served as a good cover, and I stood upright, 
dropping my hat, and looking through between 
the blades. The geese, still in a row, with sev- 
eral yards' interval between each one and his 
neighbor, were only sixty or seventy yards off, 
still feeding towards me. They came along quite 
slowly, and the ones nearest, with habitual sus- 
picion, edged away from the scattered tufts of 
grass and weeds which marked the brink of the 
creek. I tried to get two in line, but could not. 
There was one gander much larger than any other 
bird in the lot, though not the closest to me ; as he 
went by just opposite my hiding-place, he stopped 
still, broadside to me, and I aimed just at the root 
of the neck — for he was near enough for any one 
firing a rifle from a rest to hit him about where he 
pleased. Away flew the others, and in a few 



56 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

minutes I was riding along with the white gander 
dangUng behind my saddle. 

The beaver meadows spoken of above are not 
common, but, until within the last two or three 
years, beavers themselves were very plentiful, 
and there are still a good many left. Although 
only settled for so short a period, the land has 
been known to hunters for half a century, and 
throughout that time it has at intervals been 
trapped over by whites or half-breeds. If fur was 
high and the Indians peaceful quite a number of 
trappers would come in, for the Little Missouri 
Bad Lands were always famous both for fur and 
game; then if fur went down, or an Indian war 
broke out, or if the beaver got pretty well thinned 
out, the place would be forsaken and the ani- 
mals would go unmolested for perhaps a dozen 
years, when the process would be repeated. But 
the incoming of the settlers and the driving out 
of the Indians have left the ground clear for the 
trappers to work over unintermittently, and the 
extinction of the beaver throughout the plains 
country is a question of but a short time. Ex- 
cepting an occasional otter or mink, or a few 
muskrats, it is the only fur-bearing animal fol- 
lowed by the Western plains trapper ; and its large 
size and the marked pecuharities of its habits, to- 
gether with the accessibility of its haunts on the 
plains, as compared with its haunts in the deep 



Waterfowl 57 

woods and mountains, render its pursuit and cap- 
ture comparatively easy. We have trapped (or 
occasionally shot) on the ranch during the past 
three years several score of beaver ; the fur is paler 
and less valuable than in the forest animal. Those 
that live in the river do not build dams all across it, 
but merely extending up some distance against 
the current, so as to make a deep pool or eddy, be- 
side which are the burrows and houses. It would 
seem to be a simple feat to break into a beaver 
house, but in reality it needs no little toil with both 
spade and axe, for the house has very thick roof and 
walls, made of clay and tough branches, twisted 
together into a perfect mat, which, when frozen, 
can withstand anything but the sharpest and best 
of tools. At evening beaver often come out to 
swim, and by waiting on the bank perfectly quietly 
for an hour or so a close shot can frequently be 
obtained. 

Beaver are often found in the creeks, not only in 
those which always contain running water, but 
also in the dry ones. Here they build dams clean 
across, making ponds which always contain water, 
even if the rest of the bed is almost dry ; and I have 
often been surprised to find fresh traces of beaver 
in a pond but a few feet across, a mile away from 
any other body of water. On one occasion I was 
deer-hunting in a rough, broken country, which 
was little more than a tangle of ravines and clefts. 



58 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

with very steep sides rising into sharp hills. The 
sides of the ravines were quite densely overgrown 
with underbrush and young trees, and through 
one or two of them ran, or rather trickled, small 
streams, but an inch or two in depth, and often less. 
Directly across one of these ravines, at its nar- 
rowest and steepest part, the beaver had built 
an immense, massive dam, completely stopping 
the course of a little brooklet. The dam was cer- 
tainly eight feet high, and strong enough and 
broad enough to cross on horseback; and it had 
turned back the stream until a large pond, almost 
a little lake, had been formed by it. This was 
miles from any other body of water, but, judging 
from the traces of their work, it had once held a 
large colony of beavers ; when I saw it they had all 
been trapped out, and the pond had been de- 
serted for a year and over. Though clumsy on dry 
ground, and fearing much to be caught upon it, 
yet beaver can make, if necessary, quite long over- 
land journeys, and that at a speed with which 
it will give a man trouble to keep up. 

As there are few fish in the plains streams, otters 
are naturally not at all common, though occasion- 
ally we get one. Muskrats are quite plenty in all 
the pools of water. Sometimes a little pool out on 
the prairie will show along its edges numerous 
traces of animal life ; for, though of small extent, 
and a long distance from other water, it may be the 



Waterfowl 59 

home of beavers and muskrats, the breeding-place 
of different kinds of ducks, and the drinking-place 
for the denizens of the dry country roundabouts, 
such as wolves, antelopes, and badgers. 

Although the plains country is in most places 
very dry, yet there are here and there patches of 
prairie land where the reverse is true. One such 
is some thirty miles distant from my ranch. The 
ground is gently rolling, in some places almost 
level, and is crossed by two or three sluggish, 
winding creeks, with many branches, always hold- 
ing water, and swelling out into small pools and 
lakelets wherever there is a hollow. The prairie 
round about is wet, at times almost marshy, es- 
pecially at the borders of the great reedy slews. 
These pools and slews are favorite breeding- 
places for waterfowl, especially for mallard, and a 
good bag can be made at them in the fall, both 
among the young flappers (as tender and delicious 
birds for the table as any I know), and among the 
flights of wild duck that make the region a stop- 
ping-place on their southern migration. In these 
small pools, with little cover round the edges, the 
poor flappers are at a great disadvantage; we 
never shoot them unless we really need them for 
the table. But quite often, in August or Septem- 
ber, if near the place, I have gone down to visit 
one or two of the pools, and have brought home 
half a dozen flappers, killed with the rifle if I had 



6o Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

been out after large game, or with the revolver 
if I had merely been among the cattle, — each 
duck, in the latter case, representing the expendi- 
ture of a vast number of cartridges. 

Later in the fall, when the young ducks are 
grown and the flocks are coming in from the north, 
fair shooting may be had by lying in the rushes 
on the edge of some large pond, and waiting for 
the evening flight of the birds ; or else by taking a 
station on some spot of low ground across which 
the ducks fly in passing from one sheet of water 
to another. Frequently quite a bag of mallard, 
widgeon, and pintail can be made in this manner, 
although nowhere in the Bad Lands is there 
any such duck-shooting as is found farther east. 
Ducks are not very easy to kill, or even to hit, 
when they fly past. My duck-gun, the No. lo 
choke-bore, is a very strong and close shooting 
piece, and such a one is needed when the strong- 
flying birds are at any distance; but the very 
fact of its shooting so close makes it necessary 
that the aim should be very true ; and as a conse- 
quence my shooting at ducks has varied from bad 
to indifferent, and my bags have been always small. 

Once I made an unusually successful right and 
left, however. In late summer and early fall large 
flocks of both green-winged and blue-winged teal 
are often seen both on the ponds and on the 
river, flying up and down the latter. On one oc- 



Waterfowl 6i 

casion while out with the wagon we halted for 
the midday meal on the bank of the river. Trav- 
elling across the plains in company with a wagon, 
especially if making a long trip, as we were then 
doing, is both tiresome and monotonous. The 
scenery through the places where the wagon must 
go is ever3rwhere much the same, and the pace 
is very slow. At lunch time I was glad to get 
off the horse, which had been plodding along at 
a walk for hours, and stretch my muscles; and 
noticing a bunch of teal fly past and round a bend 
in the river, I seized the chance for a little diver- 
sion, and taking my double-barrel, followed them 
on foot. The banks were five or six feet high, 
edged with a thick growth of cottonwood sap- 
lings; so the chance to creep up was very good. 
On getting round the bend I poked my head 
through the bushes, and saw that the little bunch 
I was after had joined a great flock of teal, which 
was on a sand-bar in the middle of the stream. 
They were all huddled together, some standing on 
the bar, and others in the water right by it, and I 
aimed for the thickest part of the flock. At the 
report they sprang into the air, and I leaped to 
my feet to give them the second barrel, when from 
under the bank right beneath me, two shoveller 
or spoon-bill ducks rose, with great quacking, 
and, as they were right in line, I took them in- 
stead, knocking both over. When I had fished 



62 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

out the two shovellers, I waded over to the sand 
bar and picked up eleven teal, making thirteen 
ducks with the two barrels. 

On one occasion my brother and myself made 
a short wagon trip in the level, fertile, farming 
country, whose western edge lies many miles to 
the east of the Bad Lands around my ranch. 
There the land was already partially settled by 
farmers, and we had one or two days' quite fair 
duck-shooting. It was a rolling country of mixed 
prairie land and rounded hills, with small groves 
of trees and numerous little lakes in the hollows. 
The surface of the natural prairie was broken in 
places by great wheat fields, and when we were 
there the grain was gathered in sheaves and stacks 
among the stubble. At night-time we either put 
up at the house of some settler, or, if there were 
none round, camped out. 

One night we had gone into camp among the 
dense timber fringing a small river, which wound 
through the prairie in a deep narrow bed with steep 
banks. Until people have actually camped out 
themselves it is difficult for them to realize how 
much work there is in making or breaking camp. 
But it is very quickly done if every man has his 
duties assigned to him and starts about doing 
them at once In choosing camp there are three 
essentials to be looked to — wood, water, and 
grass The last is foimd everywhere in the East- 



Waterfowl 63 

ern prairie land, where we were on our duck- 
shooting trip, but in many places on the great 
dry plains farther west, it is either very scanty 
or altogether lacking; and I have at times been 
forced to travel half a score miles farther than I 
wished to get feed for the horses. Water, again, 
is a commodity not by any means to be foimd 
everywhere on the plains. If the country is 
known and the journeys timed aright, water can 
easily be had, at least at the night camps, for on a 
pinch a wagon can be pushed along thirty miles 
or so at a stretch, giving the tough ponies merely 
a couple of hours' rest and feed at midday; but 
in going through an unknown country it has been 
my misfortune on more than one occasion to make 
a dry camp— that is, one without any water either 
for men or horses, and such camps are most un- 
comfortable. The thirst seems to be most annoy- 
ing just after sundown; after one has gotten to 
sleep and the air has become cool, he is not troubled 
much by it again until within two or three hours of 
noon next day, when the chances are that he will 
have reached water, for of course by that time he 
will have made a desperate push to get to it. 
When found it is more than likely to be bad, being 
either from a bitter alkaline pool, or from a hole 
in a creek, so muddy that it can only be called 
liquid by courtesy. On the great plains wood is 
even scarcer, and at least half the time the only 



64 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

material from which to make a fire will be buffalo 
chips and sage-brush ; the long roots of the latter 
if dug up make a very hot blaze Of course when 
wood is so scarce the fire is a small one, used 
merely to cook by, and is not kept up after the 
cooking is over. 

When a place with grass, wood, and water is 
foimd, the wagon is driven up to the windward 
side of where the beds are to be laid, and the horses 
are unhitched, watered, and turned out to graze 
freely imtil bedtime, when a certain number of 
them are picketed or hobbled. If danger from 
white or red horse-thieves is feared, a guard is kept 
over them all night. The grotmd is cleared of 
stones and cacti where the beds are to be placed, 
and the blankets and robes spread. Generally 
we have no tent, and the wagon-cover is spread 
over all to keep out rain. Meanwhile some one 
gathers the wood and starts a fire. The coffee- 
pot is set among the coals, and the frying-pan with 
bacon and whatever game has been shot is placed 
on top. Like Eastern backwoodsmen, all plains- 
men fry about everything that they can get hold 
of to cook ; for my own use I always have a broiler 
carried along in the wagon. One evening in every 
three or four is employed in baking bread in the 
Dutch oven; if there is no time for this, biscuits 
are made in the frying-pan . The food carried along 
is very simple, consisting of bacon, flour, coffee, 



Waterfowl 65 

sugar, baking-powder, and salt ; for all else we 
depend on our guns. On a long trip every old 
hand carries a water-proof canvas bag, containing 
his few spare clothes and necessaries; on a short 
trip a little oilskin one, for the tooth-brush, soap, 
towel, etc., will do. 

On the evening in question our camping-ground 
was an excellent one; we had no trouble about 
anything, except that we had to bring water to 
the horses in pails, for the banks were too steep 
and rotten to get them down to the river. The 
beds were made under a great elm, and in a short 
time the fire was roaring in front of them, while 
the tender grouse w^ere being roasted on pointed 
sticks. One of the pleasantest times of camping 
out is the period immediately after supper, when 
the hunters lie in the blaze of the firelight, talking 
over what they have done during the day and mak- 
ing their plans for the morrow. And how soundly 
a man who has worked hard sleeps in the open, 
none but he who has tried it knows. 

Before we had risen in the morning, when the 
blackness of the night had barely changed to gray, 
we were roused by the whistle of wings, as a flock 
of ducks flew by along the course of the stream, 
and lit in the water just above the camp. Some 
kinds of ducks in lighting strike the water with 
their tails first, and skitter along the surface for 
a few feet before settling down. Lying in our 

VOL. I.— S. 



66 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

blankets we could plainly hear all the motions: 
first of all, the whistle — whistle of their wings; 
then a long-drawn splash-h-h — plump; and then 
a low, conversational quacking. It was too dark 
to shoot, but we got up and ready, and strolled 
down along the brink of the river opposite where 
we could hear them ; and as soon as we could see 
we gave them four barrels and picked up half a 
dozen scaup-ducks. Breakfast was not yet ready, 
and we took a turn out on the prairie before com- 
ing back to the wagon. In a small pool, down 
in a hollow, were a couple of little dipper ducks 
or buffle-heads ; they rose slowly against the wind, 
and offered such fair marks that it was out of the 
question to miss them. 

The evening before we had lain among the 
reeds near a marshy lake and had killed quite a 
number of ducks, mostly widgeon and teal; and 
this morning we intended to try shooting among 
the cornfields. By sunrise we were a good dis- 
tance off, on a high ridge, across which we had 
noticed that the ducks flew in crossing from one 
set of lakes to another. The flight had already 
begim, and our arrival scared off the birds for the 
time being ; but in a little while, after we had hid- 
den among the sheaves, stacking the straw up 
around us, the ducks began to come back, either 
flying over in their passage from the water, or 
else intending to Hght and feed. They were for 



Waterfowl 67 

the most part mallards, which are the common- 
est of the Western ducks, and the only species 
customarily killed in this kind of shooting. They 
are especially fond of the com, of which there was 
a small patch in the grain field. To this flocks 
came again and again, and fast though they flew 
we got many before they left the place, scared by 
the shooting. Those that were merely passing 
from one point to another flew low, and among 
them we shot a couple of gadwall, and also knocked 
over a red-head from a little bimch that went by, 
their squat, chunky forms giving them a very dif- 
ferent look from the longer, lighter-built mallard. 
The mallards that came to feed flew high in the 
air, wheeling round in gradually lowering circles 
when they had reached the spot where they in- 
tended to light. In shooting in the grain fields 
there is usually plenty of time to aim, a snap 
shot being from the nature of the sport excep- 
tional. Care must be taken to lie quiet until the 
ducks are near enough; shots are most often lost 
through shooting too soon. Heavy gims with 
heavy loads are necessary, for the ducks are gen- 
erally killed at long range ; and both from this cir- 
cumstance as well as from the rapidity of their 
flight, it is imperative to hold well ahead of the 
bird fired at. It has one advantage over shoot- 
ing in a marsh, and that is that a wounded bird 
which drops is of course hardly ever lost. Corn-fed 



68 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

mallards are most delicious eating ; they rank 
on a par with teal and red-head, and second only 
to the canvas-back — a bird, by the way, of which 
I have never killed but one or two individuals in 
the West. 

In going out of this field we got a shot at a 
gang of wild geese. We saw them a long way off, 
coming straight toward us in a head and tail 
line. Down we dropped, fiat on our faces , re- 
maining perfectly still without even looking up 
(for wild geese are quick to catch the slightest 
motion) until the sound of the heavy wing strokes 
and the honking seemed directly overhead. Then 
we rose on our knees and fired all four barrels, 
into which we had shpped buckshot cartridges. 
They were away up in the air, much beyond an 
ordinary gimshot ; and we looked regretfully after 
them as they flew off. Pretty soon one lagged a lit- 
tle behind ; his wings beat slower ; suddenly his long 
neck dropped, and he came down like a stone, one 
of the buckshot having gone clean through his 
breast. 

We had a long distance to make that day, and 
after leaving the grain fields travelled pretty 
steadily, only getting out of the wagon once or 
twice after prairie chickens. At lunch time we 
halted near a group of small ponds and reedy 
sloughs. In these were quite a number of teal 
and wood-duck, which were lying singly, in pairs, 



Waterfowl 69 

or small bunches, on the edges of the reeds, or 
where there were thick clusters of lily pads ; and we 
had half an hour's good sport in "jumping" these 
little ducks, moving cautiously along the margin 
of the reeds, keeping as much as possible concealed 
from view, and shooting four teal and a wood- 
duck, as frightened at our near approach, they 
sprang into the air and made off. Late in the 
evening, while we were passing over a narrow 
neck of land that divided two small lakes, with 
reedy shores, from each other, a large flock of the 
usually shy pintail duck passed over us at close 
range, and we killed two from the wagon, making 
in all a bag of twenty-one and a half couple of 
waterfowl during the day, two thirds falHng to 
my brother's gun. Of course this is a very 
small bag indeed compared to those made in the 
Chesapeake, or in Wisconsin and the Mississippi 
valley ; but the day was so perfect, and there were 
so many varieties of shooting, that I question if 
any bag, no matter how large, ever gave much 
more pleasure to the successful sportsman than 
did our forty-three ducks to us. 

Though ducks fly so fast, and need such good 
shooting to kill them, yet their rate of speed, as 
compared to that of other birds, is not so great 
as is commonly supposed. Hawks, for instance, 
are faster. Once, on the prairie, I saw a mallard 
singled out of a flock, fairly overtaken, and struck 



70 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

down, by a large, light-colored hawk, which I 
supposed to be a lanner, or at any rate one of the 
long- winged falcons; and I saw a duck hawk, on 
the coast of Long Island, perform a similar feat 
with the swift-flying long-tailed duck — the old 
squaw, or sou'-sou'-southerly, of the baymen. A 
more curious instance was related to me by a 
friend. He was out along a river, shooting ducks 
as they flew by him, and had noticed a bald eagle 
perched on the top of a dead tree some distance 
from him. While looking at it a little bunch of 
teal flew swiftly by, and to his astonishment the 
eagle made after them. The little ducks went along 
like bullets, their wings working so fast that they 
whistled; flop, flop came the great eagle after 
them, with labored-looking flight; and yet he 
actually gained so rapidly on his seemingly fleeter 
quarry that he was almost up to them when op- 
posite my friend. Then the five teal went down 
headlong into the water, diving like so many 
shot. The eagle kept hovering over the spot, 
thrusting with its claws at each little duck as it 
came up; but he was unsuccessful, all of the teal 
eventually getting into the reeds, where they were 
safe. In the East, by the way, I have seen 
the same trick of hovering over the water where 
a flock of ducks had disappeared, performed by 
a Cooper's hawk. He had stooped at some 
nearly grown flappers of the black duck ; they all 



Waterfowl 71 

went under water, and he remained just above, 
grasping at any one that appeared, and forcing 
them to go under without getting a chance to 
breathe. Soon he had singled out one, which 
kept down a shorter and shorter time at each 
dive ; it soon grew exhausted, was a httle too slow 
in taking a dive, and was grasped in the claws of 
its foe. 

In duck-shooting where there are reeds, grass, 
and water-lilies, the cripples should be killed at 
once, even at the cost of burning some additional 
powder, many kinds of waterfowl being very ex- 
pert at diving. Others, as widgeon, shoveller, and 
teal, do not dive, merely trying to hide in some 
hole in the bank; and these are generally birds 
that fall to the touch of shot much more easily 
than is the case with their tougher relatives. 

There are two or three species of birds, tolerably 
common over the plains, which we do not often 
regularly hunt, but which are occasionally shot 
for the table. These are the curlew, the upland 
or grass plover, and the golden plover. All three 
kinds belong to the family of what are called 
wading birds ; but with us it is rare to see any 
one of them near water. 

The curlew is the most conspicuous; indeed 
its loud, incessant clamor, its erect carriage, and 
the intense curiosity which possesses it, and which 
makes it come up to circle around any strange 



72 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

object, all combine to make it in springtime one of 
the most conspicuous features of plains life. At 
that time curlews are seen in pairs or small par- 
ties, keeping to the prairies and grassy uplands. 
They are never silent, and their discordant noise 
can be heard half a mile off. Whenever they dis- 
cover a wagon or a man on horseback, they fly 
toward him, though usually taking good care to 
keep out of gunshot. They then fly over and 
round the object, calling all the time, and some- 
times going off to one side, where they will light 
and run rapidly through the grass; and in this 
manner they will sometimes accompany a hunter 
or traveller for miles, scaring off all game. By 
the end of July or August they have reared their 
young ; they then go in small flocks, and are com- 
paratively silent, and are very good eating. I have 
never made a practice of shooting them, though 
I have fired at them sometimes with the rifle, and 
in this way have now and then killed one; twice 
I have hit them on the wing with this weapon, 
while they were soaring slowly about above me, 
occasionally passing pretty near. 

The grass plover is found in the same places as 
the curlew, and, like it, breeds with us. Its flesh 
is just as good, and it has somewhat the same 
habits, but is less wary, noisy, and inquisitive. 
The golden plover is only found during the 
migrations, when large flocks may sometimes be 



Waterfowl 'j2, 

seen. They are delicious eating ; the only ones I 
have ever shot have been killed with the little 
ranch gun, when riding round the ranch, or trav- 
elling from one point to another. 

Like the grouse and other ground-nesting birds, 
the curlews and plovers during breeding time 
have for their chief foes the coyotes, badgers, 
skunks, and other flesh-eating prowlers; and as 
all these are greatly thinned off by the cattle- 
men, with their firearms and their infinitely 
more deadly poison, the partial and light settle- 
ment of the country that accompanies the cattle 
industry has had the effect of making all these 
birds more plentiful than before ; and, most unlike 
the large game, game birds bid fair to increase in 
numbers during the next few years. 

The skunks are a nuisance in more ways than 
one. They are stupid, famiHar beasts, with a great 
predilection for visiting camps, and the shacks 
or huts of the settlers, to pick up any scraps of 
meat that may be lying round. I have time and 
again known a skunk to actually spend several 
hours of the night in perseveringly digging a hole 
underneath the logs of a hut, so as to get inside 
among the inmates. The animal then hunts 
about among them, and of course no one will will- 
ingly molest it ; and it has often been known to 
deliberately settle down upon and begin to eat 
one of the sleepers. The strange and terrible 



74 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

thing about these attacks is that in certain dis- 
tricts and at certain times the bite of the skunk 
is surely fatal, producing hydrophobia ; and many 
cowmen, soldiers, and hunters have annually died 
from this cause. There is no wild beast in the 
West, no matter what its size and ferocity, so 
dreaded by our plainsmen as this seemingly 
harmless little beast. 

I remember one rather ludicrous incident con- 
nected with a skunk. A number of us, among 
whom was a huge happy-go-lucky Scotchman, who 
went by the name of Sandy, were sleeping in a hut, 
when a skunk burrowed under the logs and got in. 
Hearing it moving about among the tin pans 
Sandy struck a light, was much taken by the fa- 
miliarity of the pretty black and white little ani- 
mal, and, as it seemed in his eyes a curiosity, took 
a shot at it with his revolver. He missed; the 
skunk, for a wonder, retired promptly without tak- 
ing any notice of the attack ; and the rest of the 
alarmed sleepers, when informed of the cause of 
the shot, cursed the Scotchman up hill and down 
dale for having so nearly brought dire confusion 
on them all. The latter took the abuse very 
philosophically, merely remarking: "I'm glad a 
did na kill him mysel' ; he seemed such a dacent 
wee beastie." The sequel proved that neither 
the skunk nor Sandy had learned any wisdom by 
the encounter, for half an hour later the "dacent 



Waterfowl 75 

wee beastie" came back, and this time Sandy fired 
at him with fatal effect. Of course, the result was 
a frantic rush of all hands from the hut, Sandy- 
exclaiming with late but sincere repentance: "A 
did na ken 't wad cause such a tragadee. " 

Besides curlew and plover, there are, at times, 
especially during the migrations, a number of 
species of other waders to be found along the 
streams and pools in the cattle region. Yel- 
low legs, yelper, willet, marlin, dough bird, stilt, 
and avocet are often common, but they do not 
begin to be as plentiful as they are in the more 
fertile lands to the eastward, and the ranchmen 
never shoot at them or follow them as game 
birds. 

A more curious bird than any of these is the 
plains plover, which avoids the water and seems 
to prefer the barren plateaus and almost desert- 
like reaches of sage-brush and alkali. Plains plo- 
vers are pretty birds, and not at all shy. In fall 
they are fat and good eating, but they are not 
plentiful enough to be worth going after. Some- 
times they are to be seen in the most seemingly 
unlikely places for a wader to be. Last spring 
one pair nested in a broken piece of Bad Lands 
near my ranch, where the ground is riven and 
twisted into abrupt, steep crests and deep canyons. 
The soil is seemingly wholly unfitted to support 
bird life, as it is almost bare of vegetation, being 



76 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

covered with fossil plants, shells, fishes, etc. — all 
of which objects, by the way, the frontiersman, 
who is much given to broad generalization, groups 
together under the startling title of "stone 
clams." 



CHAPTER III 

THE GROUSE OF THE NORTHERN CATTLE PLAINS 

TO my mind, there is no comparison between 
sport with the rifle and sport with the shot- 
gun. The rifle is the freeman's weapon. 
The man who uses it well in the chase shows that 
he can at need use it also in war with human foes. 
I would no more compare the feat of one who 
bags his score of ducks or quail with that of him 
who fairly hunts down and slays a buck or bear, 
than I would compare the skill necessary to drive 
a buggy with that required to ride a horse across 
country ; or the dexterity acquired in handling a 
billiard cue with that shown by a skilful boxer or 
oarsman. The difterence is not one of degree; it 
is one of kind. 

I am far from decrying the shot-gun. It is 
always pleasant as a change from the rifle, and in 
the Eastern States it is almost the only firearm 
which we now have a chance to use. But out in 
the cattle country it is the rifle that is always car- 
ried by the ranchman who cares for sport. Large 
game is still that which is sought after, and most 
of the birds killed are either simply slaughtered for 
the pot, or else shot for the sake of variety, while 

77 



78 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

really after deer or antelope ; though every now 
and then I have taken a day with the shot-gun 
after nothing else but prairie fowl. 

The sharp-tailed prairie fowl is much the most 
plentiful of the feathered game to be found on the 
northern cattle plains, where it replaces the com- 
mon prairie chicken so abundant on the prairies to 
the east and southeast of the range of our birds. 
In habits, it is much like the latter, being one 
of the grouse which keeps to the open, treeless 
tracts, though it is far less averse to timber than 
is its nearest relative, and often is foimd among 
the Cottonwood trees and thick brush which fringe 
the streams. I have never noticed that its habits, 
when pursued, differ much from those of the com- 
mon prairie chicken, though it is perhaps a little 
more shy, and is certainly much more apt to 
light on a tree, like the ruffed grouse. It is, how- 
ever, essentially a bird of the wilds, and it is a 
curious fact that it is seen to retreat before civili- 
zation, continually moving westward as the wheat 
fields advance, while its place is taken by the com- 
mon form, which seems to keep pace with the set- 
tlement of the country. Like the latter bird, and 
unlike the ruffed grouse and blue grouse, which 
have white meat, its flesh is dark, and it is very 
good eating from about the middle of August to 
the middle of November, after which it is a little 
tough. 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 79 

As already said, the ranchmen do not often 
make a regular hunt after these grouse. This is 
partly because most of them look with something 
akin to contempt upon any firearm but the rifle 
or revolver, and partly because it is next to im- 
possible to keep hunting-dogs very long on the 
plains. The only way to check, in any degree, the 
ravages of the wolves is by the most liberal use 
of strychnine, and the offal of any game killed by 
a cattleman is pretty sure to be poisoned before 
being left, while the "wolfer, " or professional 
wolf-killer, strews his bait everywhere. It thus 
comes about that any dog who is in the habit of 
going any distance from the house is almost sure 
to run across and eat some of the poisoned meat, 
the effect of which is almost certain death. The 
only time I have ever shot sharp-tailed prairie 
fowl over dogs was during a trip to the eastward 
with my brother, which will be described farther 
on. Out on the plains, I have occasionally taken 
a morning with the shot-gun after them, but more 
often have either simply butchered them for the 
pot, when out of meat, or else have killed a few 
with the rifle when I happened to come across 
them while after deer or antelope. 

Occasions frequently arise, in living a more or 
less wild life, when a man has to show his skill in 
shifting for himself; when, for instance, he has to 
go out and make a foray upon the grouse, neither 



8o Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

for sport, nor yet for a change of diet, but actu- 
ally for food. Under such circumstances, he, of 
course, pays no regard to the rules of sport which 
would govern his conduct on other occasions. If 
a man's dinner for several consecutive days de- 
pends upon a single shot, he is a fool if he does 
not take every advantage he can. I remember, 
for instance, one time when we were travelling 
along the valley of the Powder River, and got 
entirely out of fresh meat, owing to my making 
a succession of ludicrously bad misses at deer. 
Having had my faith in my capacity to kill any- 
thing whatever with the rifle a good deal shaken, 
I started off one morning on horseback with the 
shot-gun. Until nearly noon I saw nothing ; then, 
while riding through a barren-looking bottom, I 
happened to spy some prairie fowl squatting close 
to the ground underneath a sage-brush. It was 
some minutes before I could make out what they 
were, they kept so low and so quiet, and their 
color harmonized so well with their surroundings. 
Finally, I was convinced that they were grouse, 
and rode my horse slowly by them. When oppo- 
site, I reined him in and fired, killing the whole 
bunch of five birds. Another time, at the ranch 
our supply of fresh meat gave out entirely, and 
I sallied forth with the ranch gun, intent, not on 
sport, but on slaughter. It was late fall, and as 
I rode along in the dawn (for the sun was not 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 8i 

up) a small pack of prairie-fowl passed over my 
head and lit on a dead tree that stood out some 
little distance from a grove of cottonwoods. 
They paid little attention to me, but they are so 
shy at that season that I did not dare to try to 
approach them on foot, but let the horse jog on at 
the regular cow-pony gait, — a kind of single-foot 
pace, between a walk and a trot, — and as I passed 
by fired into the tree and killed four birds. Now, 
of course, I would not have dreamed of taking 
either of these shots had I been out purely for 
sport, and neither needed any more skill than 
would be shown in killing hens in a barn-yard ; but, 
after all, when one is hunting for one's dinner he 
takes an interest in his success which he would 
otherwise lack, and on both occasions I felt a 
most unsportsmanlike glee when I found how 
many I had potted. 

The habits of this prairie-fowl vary greatly at 
different seasons of the year. It is found pretty 
much everywhere within moderate distance of 
water, for it does not frequent the perfectly dry 
wastes where we find the great sage-cock. But it 
is equally at home on the level prairie and among 
the steep hills of the Bad Lands. When on the 
ground it has rather a comical look, for it stands 
very high on its legs, carries its sharp little tail 
cocked up like a wren's and when startled stretches 
its neck out straight ; altogether, it gives one the 

VOL. I. — 6 



82 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

impression of being a very angular bird. Of 
course, it crouches, and moves about when feed- 
ing, Hke any other grouse. 

One of the strangest, and to me one of the 
most attractive, sounds of the prairie is the hollow 
booming made by the cocks in spring. Before 
the snow has left the ground they begin, and at 
the break of morning their deep resonant calls 
sound from far and near, for in still weather they 
can be heard at an immense distance. I hardly 
know how to describe the call ; indeed it cannot 
be described in words. It has a hollow, vibrant 
sound, like that of some wind instrument, and 
would hardly be recognized as a bird note at 
all. I have heard it at evening, but more often 
shortly after dawn ; and I have often stopped and 
listened to it for many minutes, for it is as strange 
and weird a form of natural music as any I know. 
At the time of the year when they utter these 
notes the cocks gather together in certain places 
and hold dancing rings, posturing and strutting 
about as they face and pass each other. 

The nest is generally placed in a tuft of grass or 
imder a sage-brush in the open, but occasionally 
in the brush wood near a stream. The chicks are 
pretty little balls of mottled brown and yellow 
down. The mother takes great care of them, 
leading them generally into some patch of brush- 
wood, but often keeping them out in the deep 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 83 

grass. Frequently, when out among the cattle, 
I have ridden my horse almost over a hen with 
a brood of chicks. The little chicks first attempt 
to run off in single file ; if discovered, they scatter 
and squat down under clods of earth or tufts of 
grass. Holding one in my hand near my pocket, 
it scuttled into it like a flash. The mother, when 
she sees her brood discovered, tumbles about 
through the grass as if wounded, in the effort 
to decoy the foe after her. If she is successful 
in this, she takes a series of short flights, keeping 
just out of reach of her pursuer, and when the lat- 
ter has been lured far enough from the chicks 
the hen rises and flies off at a humming speed. 

By the middle of August the young are well 
enough grown to shoot, and are then most de- 
licious eating. Different coveys at this time vary 
greatly in their behavior if surprised feeding in 
the open. Sometimes they will not permit a 
very close approach, and will fly off after one or 
two have been shot; while, again, they will show 
perfect indifference to the approach of man, and 
will allow the latter to knock off the heads of five 
or six with his rifle before the rest take the alarm 
and fly off. They now go more or less over the 
open ground, but are especially fond of frequent- 
ing the long grass in the bottoms of the coulies 
and ravines and the dense brush along the edges 
of the creeks and in the valleys; there they will 



84 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

invariably be found at midday, and will lie till 
they are almost trodden on before rising. 

Late in the month of August one year we 
had been close-herding a small bunch of young 
cattle on a bottom about a mile square, walled in 
by bluffs, and with, as an inlet, a long, dry creek 
running back many miles into the Bad Lands, 
where it branched out into innumerable smaller 
creeks and coulies. We wished to get the cattle 
accustomed to the locality, for animals are more 
apt to stray when first brought on new ground 
than at any later period; so each night we "bed- 
ded" them on the level bottom— that is, gathering 
them together on the plain, one of us would ride 
slowly and quietly round and round the herd, 
heading off and turning back into it all beasts that 
tried to stray off, but carefully avoiding disturb- 
ing them or making any unusual noise ; and by de- 
grees they would all lie down, close together. This 
"bedding down" is always done when travelling 
with a large herd, when, of course, it needs sev- 
eral cowboys to do it ; and in such cases some of 
the cowboys keep guard all the time, walking 
their horses round the herd, and singing and 
calling to the cattle all night long. The cattle 
seem to like to hear the human voice, and it tends 
to keep them quiet and free from panic. Often 
when camping near some great cattle outfit I have 
lain awake at night for an hour or over listening 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 85 

to the wild, not unmusical calls of the cowboys as 
they rode round the half -slumbering steers. In 
the clear, still night air the calls can be heard for 
a mile and more, and I like to listen to them as 
they come through the darkness, half-mellowed 
by the distance, for they are one of the char- 
acteristic sounds of plains life. Texan steers often 
give considerable trouble before they can be 
bedded, and are prone to stampede, especially in 
a thunder-storm. But with the little herd we 
were at this time guarding there was no difficulty 
whatever, the animals being grade shorthorns of 
Eastern origin. After seeing them quiet, we would 
leave them for the night, again riding out early in 
the morning. 

On every occasion when we thus rode out in 
the morning we saw great numbers of prairie- 
fowl feeding in the open plain in small flocks, each 
evidently composed of a hen and her own brood. 
They would often be right round the cattle, and 
went indifferently among the sage-brush or out 
on the short prairie grass. They flew into the 
bottom from some distance off about daybreak, 
fed for a couple of hours, and soon after sunrise 
again took wing and flew up along the course 
of the dry creek mentioned above. While on the 
bottom they were generally quite shy, not permit- 
ting anything like a close approach before taking 
wing. Their habit of crowing or clucking while 



86 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

flying off is very noticeable; it is, by the way, a 
most strongly characteristic trait of this species. 
I have been especially struck by it when shoot- 
ing in Minnesota, where both the sharp-tail and 
the common prairie-fowl are found; the contrast 
between the noisiness of one bird and the quiet 
of the other was very marked. If one of us ap- 
proached a covey on horseback, the birds would, 
if they thought they were unobserved, squat down 
close to the ground ; more often they would stand 
very erect, and walk off. If we came too close to 
one it would utter a loud kuk-kuk-kuk, and be off, 
at every few strokes of its wings repeating the 
sound — a kind of crowing cluck. This is the note 
they utter when alarmed, or when calling to one 
another. When a flock are together and undis- 
turbed, they keep up a sociable, garrulous cackling. 
Every morning, by the time the sun had been up 
a little while, the grouse had all gone from the bot- 
tom, but later in the day, while riding along the 
creek among the cattle, we often stumbled upon 
little flocks. We fired at them with our revol- 
vers whenever we were close enough, but the 
amount we got in this way was very limited, and 
as we were rather stinted for fresh meat, the cat- 
tle taking up so much of our time as to prevent 
our going after deer, I made up my mind to de- 
vote a morning to hunting up the creeks and cou- 
lies for grouse, with the shot-gun. 



Grouse of the Northern Plains Sy 

Accordingly, the next morning I started, just 
about the time the last of the flocks were flying 
away from their feeding-grounds on the bottom. 
I trudged along on foot, not wanting to be both- 
ered by a horse. The air was fresh and cool, 
though the cloudless sky boded a hot noon. As 
I walked by the cattle they stopped grazing and 
looked curiously at me, for they were imused to 
seeing any man not on horseback. But they did 
not offer to molest me; Texan or even Northern 
steers bred on the more remote ranges will often 
follow and threaten a footman for miles. While 
passing among the cattle, it was amusing to see 
the actions of the little cow-buntings. They were 
very familiar little birds, lighting on the backs 
of the beasts, and keeping fluttering round their 
heads as they walked through the grass, hopping 
up into the air all the time. At first, I could not 
make out what they were doing ; but on watch- 
ing them closely, saw that they were catching the 
grasshoppers and moths which flew into the air to 
avoid the cattle's hoofs. They are as tame with 
horsemen; while riding through a patch of tall 
grass a flock of buntings will often keep circling 
within a couple of yards of the horse's head, seiz- 
ing the insects as they fly up before him. 

The valley through which the creek ran was 
quite wide, bordered by low buttes. After a heavy 
rainfall the water rushes through the at other 



88 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

times dry bed in a foaming torrent, and it thus 
cuts it down into a canyon-like shape, making 
it a deep, winding narrow ditch, with steep 
sides. Along the edges of this ditch were dense 
patches, often quite large, of rose-bushes, bull- 
berry bushes, ash, and wild cherry, making almost 
impenetrable thickets, generally not over breast 
high. In the bottom of the valley, along the 
edges of the stream-bed, the grass was long and 
coarse, entirely different from the short fine 
bunch-grass a little farther back, the favorite 
food of the cattle. 

Almost as soon as I had entered the creek, in 
walking through a small patch of brush I put up 
an old cock, as strong a flyer as the general run of 
October birds. Off he went, with a whirr, cluck- 
ing and crowing; I held the little 1 6 -bore fully 
two feet ahead of him, pulled the trigger, and 
down he came into the bushes. The sharp-tails fly 
strongly and steadily, springing into the air when 
they rise, and then going off in a straight line, al- 
ternately sailing and giving a succession of rapid 
wing-beats. Sometimes they will sail a long dis- 
tance with set wings before alighting, and when 
they are passing overhead with their wings out- 
stretched each of the separate wing feathers can 
be seen, rigid and distinct. 

Picking up and pocketing my bird, I walked on, 
and on turning round a shoulder of the bluffs saw 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 89 

a pair of sharp-tails sitting sunning themselves on 
the top of a bullberry bush. As soon as they saw 
me they flew off a short distance and lit in the bed 
of the creek. Rightly judging that there were 
more birds than those I had seen I began to beat 
with great care the patches of brush and long 
grass on both sides of the creek, and soon was re- 
warded by some very pretty shooting. The covey 
was a large one, composed of two or three broods 
of young prairie-fowl, and I had struck on the 
exact place, a slight hollow filled with low brush 
and tall grass, where they were lying. They lay 
very close, and my first notice of their presence 
was given by one that I almost trod on, which 
rose from fairly between my feet. A young 
grouse at this season offers an easy shot, and 
he was dropped without difficulty. At the re- 
port two others rose and I got one. When I 
had barely reloaded the rest began to get up, 
singly or two or three at a time, rising straight up 
to clear the edge of the hollow, and making beau- 
tiful marks ; when the last one had been put up I 
had down seven birds, of which I picked up six, 
not being able to find the other. A httle farther 
I put up and shot a single grouse, which fell into a 
patch of briars I could not penetrate. Then for 
some time I saw nothing, although beating care- 
fully through every Hkely looking place. One 
patch of grass, but a few feet across, I walked 



90 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

directly through without rousing anything; hap- 
pening to look back, when I had gone some fifty 
yards, I was surprised to see a dozen heads and 
necks stretched up, and eyeing me most inquisi- 
tively; their owners were sharp-tails, a covey of 
which I had almost walked over without their 
making a sign. I strode back; but at my first 
step they all stood up straight, with their absurd 
little tails held up in the air, and at the next 
step away they went, flying off a quarter of a 
mile and then scattering in the bushy hollows 
where a coulie headed up into the buttes. 
(Grouse at this season hardly ever light in a 
tree.) I marked them down carefully and 
tramped all through the place, yet I only suc- 
ceeded in putting up two, of which I got one and 
missed the other with both barrels. After that 
I walked across the heads of the coulies but saw 
nothing except in a small swale of high grass, 
where there was a little covey of five of which 
I got two with a right and left. It was now 
very hot, and I made for a spring which I knew 
ran out of a cliff a mile or two off. There I stayed 
till long after the shadows began to lengthen, 
when I started homeward. For some miles I saw 
nothing, but as the evening came on the grouse 
began to stir. A small party flew over my head, 
and though I missed them with both barrels, 
either because I miscalculated the distance or 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 91 

for some other reason, yet I marked them down 
very well, and when I put them up again got 
two. Three times afterward I came across cov- 
eys, either flying or walking out from the edges 
of the brushes, and I got one bird out of each, 
reaching home just after sunset with fifteen sharp- 
tails strung over my back. Of course, working 
after grouse on an August day in this manner, 
without a dog, is very tiring, and no great bag can 
be made without a pointer or setter. 

In September, the sharp-tails begin to come out 
from the brushy coulies and creek bottoms, and 
to wander out among the short grass of the ra- 
vines and over the open prairie. They are at first 
not very shy, and in the early part of the month 
I have once or twice had good sport with them. 
Once I took a companion in the buckboard, 
and drove during the course of the day twenty or 
twenty-five miles along the edge of the rolling prai- 
rie, crossing the creeks and skirting the wooded 
basins where the Bad Lands began. We came 
across quite a number of coveys, which in almost 
all cases waited for us to come up, and as the birds 
did not rise all together, I got three or four shots 
at each covey, and came home with ten and a half 
couple. 

A little later the birds become shy and acquire 
their full strength of wing. They now wander 
far out on the prairie, and hardly ever make any 



92 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

effort to squat down and conceal themselves in 
the marvellous way which they have earlier in the 
season, but, on the contrary, trust to their vigi- 
lance and their powers of flight for their safety. 
On bare ground it is now impossible to get any- 
where near them, but if they are among sage- 
brush or in other low cover they afford fine 
sport to a good shot, with a close-shooting, strong- 
hitting gun. I remember one evening, while 
coming over with a wagon-team from the head 
waters of O' Fallon Creek, across the Big Sandy, 
when it became a matter of a good deal of inter- 
est for us to kill something, as otherwise we would 
have had very little to eat. We had camped near 
a succession of small pools, containing one or 
two teal, which I shot ; but a teal is a small bird 
when placed before three hungry men. Sharp- 
tails, however, were quite numerous, having come 
in from round about, as evening came on, to 
drink. They were in superb condition, stout and 
heavy, with clean, bright plumage, but very shy; 
and they rose so far off and flew so strongly and 
swiftly that a good many cartridges were spent 
before four of the plump, white-bellied birds were 
brought back to the wagon in my pockets. 

Later than this they sometimes unite into great 
packs containing hundreds of individuals, and 
then show a strong preference for the timbered 
ravines and the dense woods and underbrush of 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 93 

the river bottoms, the upper branches of the trees 
being their favorite resting-places. On very cold 
mornings, when they are feeling numb and chilled, 
a man can sometimes get very close up to them, 
but as a rule they are very wild, and the few I 
have killed at this season of the year have been 
shot with the rifle, either from a tree or when 
standing out on the bare hillsides, at a consider- 
able distance. They offer very pretty marks for 
target practice with the rifle, and it needs a good 
shot to hit one at eighty or a hundred yards. 

But, though the shot-gun is generally of no use 
late in the season, yet last December I had a good 
afternoon's sport with it. There was a light snow 
falling, and having been in the house all the morn- 
ing, I determined to take a stroll out in the after- 
noon with the shot-gun. A couple of miles from 
the house was a cedar canyon — that is, a can- 
yon one of whose sides was densely wooded with 
gnarled, stimted evergreens. This had been a 
favorite resort for the sharp-tails for some time, 
and it was especially likely that they would go to 
it during a storm, as it afforded fine shelter, and 
also food. The buttes bounding it on the side 
where the trees were, rose to a sharp crest, which 
extended along, with occasional interruptions, for 
over a mile, and by walking along near this and 
occasionally looking out over it, I judged I would 
get up close to the grouse, while the falling snow 



94 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

and the wind would deaden the report of the gun, 
and not let it scare all the prairie-fowl out of 
the canyon at the first fire. It came out as I 
had planned and expected. I climbed up to the 
crest near the mouth of the gorge, braced myself 
firmly, and looked over the top. At once a dozen 
sharp-tails, who had perched in the cedar tops 
almost at my feet, took wing, crossed over the 
canyon, and as they rose all in a bimch to clear the 
opposite wall I fired both barrels into the brown, 
and two of the birds dropped down to the bottom 
of the ravine. They fell on the snow-covered 
open groimd, where I could easily find them 
again, and as it would have been a great and use- 
less labor to have gone down for them, I left them 
where they were and walked on along the crest. 
Before I had gone a hundred yards I had put up 
another sharp-tail from a cedar and killed him in 
fine style as he sailed off below me. The snow 
and bad weather seemed to make the prairie- 
fowl disinclined to move. There must have been 
a good many score of them scattered in bunches 
among the cedars, and as I walked along I put 
up a covey or a single bird every two or three 
hundred yards. They were always started when I 
was close up to them, and the nature of the place 
made them offer excellent shots as they went off, 
while, when killed, they dropped down on the 
snow-covered canyon bottom, where they could 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 95 

be easily recovered on my walk home. When the 
sharp-tails had once left the canyon, they scat- 
tered among the broken buttes. I tried to creep 
up to one or two, but they were fully as wild and 
watchful as deer, and would not let me come 
within a hundred yards of them; so I turned 
back climbed down into the canyon, and walked 
homeward through it, picking up nine birds on 
the way, the result of a little over an hour's 
shooting. Most of them were dead outright; 
and the two or three who had been only woimded 
were easily followed by the tracks they made in 
the tell-tale snow. 

Most of the prairie-fowl I have killed, however, 
have not been obtained in the course of a day or 
an afternoon regularly spent after them for the 
sake of sport, but have simply been shot with 
whatever weapon came handy, because we actu- 
ally needed them for immediate use. On more 
than one occasion I would have gone supperless 
or dinnerless had it not been for some of these 
grouse; and one such instance I will give. 

One November, about the middle of the month, 
we had driven in a beef herd (which we wished to 
ship to the cattle-yards) round the old canton- 
ment building, in which a few years ago troops had 
been stationed to guard against Indian outbreaks. 
Having taken care of the beef herd, I determined 
to visit a little bunch of cattle which was some 



96 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

thirty-five miles down the river, under the care of 
one of my men — a grizzled old fellow, born in 
Maine, whose career had been varied to an ex- 
tent only possible in America, he having suc- 
cessively followed the occupations of seaman, 
druggist, clerk, buffalo hunter, and cowboy. 

I intended to start about noon, but there was 
so much business to settle that it was an hour 
and a half afterwards before I put spurs to the 
smart little cow-pony and loped briskly down the 
valley. It was a sharp day, the mercury well 
down towards zero; and the pony, fresh and 
untired, and impatient of standing in the cold, 
went along at a good rate; but darkness sets in 
so early at this season that I had not gone many 
miles before I began to fear that I would not 
reach the shack by nightfall. The well-beaten 
trail followed along the bottoms for some distance 
and then branched out into the Bad Lands, lead- 
ing up and down through the ravines and over 
the ridge crests of some very rough and broken 
country, and crossing a great level plateau, over 
which the wind blew savagely, sweeping the pow- 
dery snow clean off of the bent blades of short 
brown grass After making a wide circle of some 
twelve miles, the trail again came back to the 
Little Missouri, and led along the bottoms be- 
tween the rows of high bluffs, continually cross- 
ing and recrossing the river. These crossings 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 97 

were difficult and disagreeable for the horse, as 
they always are when the ice is not quite heavy 
enough to bear. The water had not frozen until 
two or three days before, and the cold snap had 
not yet lasted long enough to make the ice solid, 
besides which it was covered with about half an 
inch of light snow that had fallen, concealing all 
bad-looking places. The ice, after bearing the 
cautiously stepping pony for a few yards, would 
suddenly break and let him down to the bottom, 
and he would then have to plunge and paw his 
way through to the opposite shore. Often it is 
almost impossible to make a pony attempt the 
crossing under such difficulties; and I have seen 
ponies which had to be knocked down and pulled 
across glare ice on their sides. If the horse slips 
and falls it is a serious matter to the rider; for a 
wetting in such cold weather, with a long horse- 
back journey to make, is no joke. 

I was still several miles from the hut I was striv- 
ing to reach when the sun set ; and for some time 
previous the valley had been in partial darkness, 
though the tops of the sombre bluffs around were 
still lit up. The pony loped steadily on along 
the trail, which could be dimly made out by the 
starlight. I hurried the willing little fellow all I 
could without distressing him, for, though I knew 
the road pretty well, yet I doubted if I could find 
it easily in perfect darkness ; and the clouds were 

VOL. I.— 7 



98 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

gathering overhead with a rapidity which showed 
that the starhght would last but a short while. 
The light snow rendered the hoof -beats of my 
horse muffled and indistinct; and almost the 
only sound that broke the silence was the long- 
drawn, melancholy howling of a wolf, a quarter 
of a mile off. When we came to the last cross- 
ing the pony was stopped and watered; and we 
splashed through over a rapid where the ice 
had formed only a thin crust. On the opposite 
side was a large patch of • cottonwoods, thickly 
grown up with underbrush, the whole about half 
a mile square. In this was the cowboy's shack, 
but as it was now pitch dark I was unable to find 
it imtil I rode clean through to the cow-corral, 
which was out in the open on the other side. 
Here I dismounted, grouped around till I found 
the path, and then easily followed it to the shack. 
Rather to my annoyance, the cowboy was away, 
having run out of provisions, as I afterwards 
learned; and, of course, he had left nothing to eat 
behind him. The tough little pony was, according 
to custom, turned loose to shift for himself ; and I 
went into the low, windowless hut, which was less 
than twelve feet square. In one end was a great 
chimney place, and it took but a short time to 
start a roaring fire which speedily made the hut 
warm and comfortable. Then I went down to 
the river with an axe and a pail, and got some 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 99 

water ; I had carried a paper of tea in my pocket, 
and the tea-kettle was soon simmering away. I 
should have liked something to eat, but as I 
did not have it, the tea did not prove such a bad 
substitute for a cold and tired man. 

Next morning I sallied out at break of day with 
the rifle, for I was pretty hungry. As soon as I 
stepped from the hut I could hear the prairie- 
fowl crowing and calling to one another from the 
tall trees. There were many score — many him- 
dreds would perhaps be more accurate — scattered 
through the wood. Evidently they had been at- 
tracted by the good cover and by the thick 
growth of choke-cherries and wild plums. As the 
dawn brightened, the sharp-tails kept up inces- 
santly their hoarse clucking, and small parties 
began to fly down from their roosts to the berry- 
bushes. While perched up among the bare limbs 
of the trees, sharply outlined against the sky, 
they were very conspicuous. Generally, they 
crouched close down, with the head drawn in to 
the body and the feathers ruflled, but when 
alarmed or restless they stood up straight with 
their necks stretched out, looking very awkward. 
Later in the day, they would have been wild 
and hard to approach, but I kept out of their 
sight, and sometimes got two or three shots at 
the same bird before it flew off. They offered 
beautiful marks, and I could generally get a rest 

LofC. 



loo Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

for my rifle, while in the gray morning, before 
sunrise, I was not very conspicuous myself, and 
could get up close beneath where they were ; so I 
did not have much trouble in killing five, almost 
all of them shot very nearly where the neck joins 
the body, one having the head fairly cut off. 
Salt, like tea, I had carried with me, and it was 
not long before two of the birds, plucked and 
cleaned, were split open and roasting before the 
fire. And to me they seemed most delicious 
food, although even in November the sharp- 
tails, while keeping their game flavor, have be- 
gun to be dry and tough, most unlike the tender 
and juicy young of August and September. 

The best day's work I ever did after sharp- 
tails was in the course of the wagon-trip, already 
mentioned, which my brother and I made through 
the fertile farming country to the eastward. We 
had stopped over night with a Norwegian settler, 
who had taken and adapted to a farmhouse an 
old log trading-post of one of the fur companies, 
lying in the timber which fringed a river, and so 
stoutly built as to have successfully withstood the 
assaults of Time. We were travelling in a light, 
covered wagon, in which we could drive anywhere 
over the prairie. Our dogs would have made 
an eastern sportsman blush, for, when roughing it 
in the West we have to put up with any kind of 
mongrel makeshift, and the best dog gets pretty 



Grouse of the Northern Plains loi 

well battered after a season or two. I never had a 
better duck-retriever than a little yellow cur, with 
hardly a trace of hunting blood in his veins. On 
this occasion we had a stiff -jointed old pointer 
with a stub tail, and a wild young setter pup, 
tireless and ranging very free (a Western dog on 
the prairies should cover five times the ground 
necessary for an Eastern one to get over), but 
very imperfectly trained. 

Half of the secret of success on a shooting- 
trip lies in getting up early and working all day; 
and this at least we had learned, for we were off as 
soon as there was light enough by which to drive. 
The ground, of course, was absolutely fenceless, 
houses being many miles apart. Through the 
prairie, with its tall grass, in which the sharp- 
tails lay at night and during the day, were scat- 
tered great grain fields, their feeding-grounds in 
the morning and evening. Our plan was to drive 
from one field to another, getting out at each and 
letting the dogs hunt it over. The birds were in 
small coveys and lay fairly well to the dogs, though 
they rose much farther off from us in the grain 
fields than they did later in the day, when we 
flushed them from the tall grass of the prairie (I 
call it tall grass in contradistinction to the short 
bunch-grass of the cattle plains to the westward). 
Old stub-tail, though slow, was very staunch and 
careful, never flushing a bird, while the puppy, 



I02 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

from pure heedlessness, and with the best inten- 
tions, would sometimes bounce into the midst 
of a covey before he knew of their presence. On 
the other hand, he covered twice the groimd that 
the pointer did. The actual killing the birds 
was a good deal like quail-shooting in the East, 
except that it was easier, the marks being so much 
larger. When we came to a field we would beat 
through it a hundred yards apart, the dogs rang- 
ing in long diagonals. When either the setter or 
the pointer came to a stand, the other generally 
backed him. If the covey was near enough, both 
of us — otherwise, whichever was closest — walked 
cautiously up. The grouse generally flushed 
before we came up to the dog, rising all together, 
so as to give only a right and left. 

When the morning was well advanced, the 
grouse left the stubble fields and flew into the ad- 
joining prairie. We marked down several coveys 
into one spot, where the ground was rolling and 
there were here and there a few bushes in the 
hollows. Carefully himting over this, we found 
two or three coveys and had excellent sport out 
of each. The sharp-tails in these places lay very 
close, and we had to walk them up, when they 
rose one at a time, and thus allowed us shot after 
shot ; whereas, as already said, earlier in the day 
we merely got a quick right and left at each 
covey. At least half the time we were shooting in 



lii' 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 103 

our rubber overcoats, as the weather was cloudy 
and there were frequent flurries of rain. 

We rested a couple of hours at noon for lunch, 
and the afternoon's sport was simply a repetition 
of the morning's, except that we had but one 
dog to work with ; for, shortly after mid-day, the 
stub-tailed pointer, for his sins, encountered a 
skunk, with which he waged prompt and valiant 
battle — thereby rendering himself, for the balance 
of the time, wholly useless as a servant and highly 
offensive as a companion. 

The setter pup did well, ranging very freely, 
but naturally got tired and careless, flushing his 
birds half the time; and we had to stop when 
we still had a good hour of daylight left. Never- 
theless, we had in our wagon, when we came in 
at night, a hundred and five grouse, of which 
sixty-two had fallen to my brother's gun, and 
forty-three to mine. We would have done 
much better with more serviceable dogs ; besides, 
I was suffering all day long from a most acute 
colic, which was anything but a help to good 
shooting. 

Besides the sharp-tail, there is but one kind of 
grouse found in the northern cattle plains. This 
is the sage-cock, a bird the size of a young turkey, 
and, next to the Old World capercailzie or cock of 
the woods, the largest of the grouse family. It is 
a handsome bird, with a long pointed tail and black 



I04 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

belly, and is a very characteristic form of the re- 
gions which it inhabits. 

It is peculiarly a desert grouse, for though some- 
times found in the grassy prairies and on the open 
river bottoms, it seems really to prefer the dry, 
arid wastes, where the withered-looking sage- 
brush and the spiny cactus are almost the only 
plants to be found, and where the few pools of 
water are so bitterly alkaline as to be nearly im- 
drinkable. It is pre-eminently the grouse of the 
plains, and, unlike all of its relatives, is never 
found near trees; indeed, no trees grow in its 
haunts. 

As is the case with the two species of prairie- 
fowl, the cocks of this great bird become very 
noisy in the early spring. If a man happens at 
that season to be out in the dry plains which are 
frequented by the sage-fowl, he will hear in the 
morning, before sunrise, the deep, sonorous boom- 
ing of the cocks, as they challenge one another or 
call to their mates. This call is uttered in a hol- 
low, bass tone, and can be heard a long distance in 
still weather ; it is difficult to follow up, for it has 
a very ventriloquial effect. 

Unlike the sharp-tail, the habits and haunts of 
the sage-fowl are throughout the. year the same, 
except that it grows shyer as the season advances, 
and occasionally wanders a little farther than for- 
merly from its birthplace. It is only found where 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 105 

the tough, scraggly wild sage abounds, and it feeds 
for most of the year solely on sage leaves, varying 
this diet in August and September by quantities of 
grasshoppers. Curiously enough, it does not pos- 
sess any gizzard, such as most gallinaceous birds 
have, but has in its place a membranous stomach, 
suited to the digestion of its peculiar food. 

The little chicks follow their mother as soon as 
hatched, and she generally keeps them in the 
midst of some patch of sage-brush so dense as to 
be almost impenetrable to man or beast. The 
little fellows skulk and dodge through the crooked 
stems so cleverly that it is almost impossible to 
catch them. Early in August, when the brood is 
well grown, the mother leads them out, and during 
the next two months they are more often found 
out on the grassy prairies than is the case at any 
other season. They do not form into packs Hke 
the prairie-fowl as winter comes on, two broods at 
the outside occasionally coming together; and 
they then again retire to the more waste parts of 
the plains, living purely on sage leaves, and keep- 
ing closely to the best-sheltered hollows until the 
springtime. 

In the early part of the season, the young, and, 
indeed, their parents also, are tame and unsus- 
picious to the very verge of stupidity, and at this 
time are often known by the name of "fool-hens" 
among the frontiersmen. They grow shyer as the 



io6 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

season advances, and after the first of October are 
difficult to approach, but even then are rarely as 
wild as the sharp-tails. 

It is commonly believed that the flesh of the 
sage-fowl is uneatable, but this is very far from 
being the truth, and, on the contrary, it is excel- 
lent eating in August and September, when grass- 
hoppers constitute their chief food, and, if the 
birds are drawn as soon as shot, is generally per- 
fectly palatable at other seasons of the year. The 
first time I happened to find this out was on the 
course of a trip, taken with one of my foremen as 
a companion, through the arid plains to the west- 
ward of the Little Missouri. We had been gone 
for two or three days and camped by a mud hole, 
which was almost dry, what water it still held 
being almost as thick as treacle. Our luxuries 
being limited, I bethought me of a sage-cock 
which I had shot during the day and had hung to 
the saddle. I had drawn it as soon as it was 
picked up, and I made up my mind to try how it 
tasted. A good deal to our surprise, the meat, 
though dark and coarse-grained, proved perfectly 
well flavored, and was quite as good as wild-goose, 
which it much resembled. Some young sage- 
fowl, shot shortly afterward, proved tender and 
juicy, and tasted quite as well as sharp-tails. All 
of these birds had their crops crammed with grass- 
hoppers, and doubtless the nature of their food 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 107 

had much to do with their proving so good for the 
table. An old bird, which had fed on nothing but 
sage, and was not drawn when shot, would, beyond 
question, be very poor eating. Like the spruce 
grouse and the two kinds of prairie-fowl, but un- 
like the ruffed grouse and blue grouse, the sage- 
fowl has dark meat. 

In walking and running on the ground, sage- 
fowl act much like common hens, and can skulk 
through the sage-brush so fast that it is often 
difficult to make them take wing. When sur- 
prised, they will sometimes squat flat down with 
their heads on the ground, when it is very difficult 
to make them out, as their upper parts harmonize 
curiously in color with the surroundings. I have 
never known of their being shot over a dog, and, 
indeed, the country where they are found is so dry 
and difficult that no dog would be able to do any 
work in it. 

When flushed, they rise with a loud whirring, 
laboring heavily, often clucking hoarsely; when 
they get fairly under way, they move along in a 
strong, steady flight, sailing most of the time, but 
giving, every now and then, a succession of pow- 
erful wing-beats, and their course is usually sus- 
tained for a mile or over before they light. They 
are very easy marks, but require hard hitting to 
bring them down, for they are very tenacious of 
life. On one occasion, I came upon a flock and 



io8 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

shot an old cock through the body with the rifle. 
He fell over, fluttering and kicking, and I shot a 
young one before the rest of the flock rose. To 
my astonishment, the old cock recovered himself 
and made off after them, actually flying for half a 
mile before he dropped. When I found him he 
was quite dead, the ball having gone clean through 
him. It was a good deal as if a man had run a 
mile with a large grapeshot through his body. 

Most of the sage -fowl I have killed have been 
shot with the rifle when I happened to run across 
a covey while out riding, and wished to take two 
or three of them back for dinner. Only once did 
I ever make a trip with the shot-gun for the sole 
purpose of a day's sport with these birds. 

This was after having observed that there were 
several small flocks of sage-fowl at home on a great 
plateau or high plain, crossed by several dry 
creeks, which was about eight miles from the cow- 
camp where I was staying ; and I concluded that 
I would devote a day to their pursuit. Accord- 
ingl}^ one morning I started out on horseback with 
my double-barrel lo-bore and a supply of car- 
tridges loaded with No. 4 shot; one of my cow- 
boys went with me, carrying a rifle so as to be 
ready if we ran across any antelope. Our horses 
were fresh, and the only way to find the birds was 
to cover as much ground as possible; so as soon 
as we reached the plateau we loped across it in 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 109 

parallel lines till we struck one of the creeks, when 
we went up it, one on each side, at a good gait, and 
then crossed over to another, where we repeated 
the operation. It was nearly noon when, while 
going up the third creek, we ran into a covey of 
about fifteen sage-fowl, a much larger covey than 
ordinary. They were down in the bottom of the 
creek, which here exhibited a formation very 
common on the plains. Although now perfectly 
dry, every series of heavy rainfalls changed it 
into a foaming torrent, which flowed down the 
valley in sharp curves, eating away the land into 
perpendicular banks on the outside of each curve. 
Thus a series of small bottoms was formed, each 
fronted by a semicircular bluff, highest in the 
middle, and rising perfectly sheer and straight. 
At the foot of these bluffs, which varied from six 
to thirty feet in height, was the bed of the stream. 
In many of these creeks there will be a growth of 
small trees by the stream bed, where it runs under 
the bluffs, and perhaps pools of water will be 
found in such places even in times of drought. 
But on the creek where we found the sage-fowl, 
there were neither trees nor water, and the little 
bottoms were only covered with stunted sage- 
brush. Dismounting and leaving my horse with 
the cowboy, I walked down to the edge of the 
bottom, which was not more than thirty or forty 
yards across. The covey retreated into the brush, 



I lo Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

some of the birds crouching flat down, while the 
others walked or ran off among the bushes. They 
were pretty tame, and rose one at a time as I 
walked on. They had to rise over the low, semi- 
circular bluff in front of them, and, it being still 
early in the season, they labored heavily as they 
left the ground. I fired just as they topped the 
bluff, and as they were so close and large, and were 
going so slowly, I was able to knock over eight 
birds, hardly moving from my place during the 
entire time. On our way back we ran into an- 
other covey, a much smaller one, on the side of 
another creek ; of these I got a couple ; and I got 
another out of still a third covey, which we found 
out in the open, but of which the birds all rose and 
made off together. We carried eleven birds back, 
most of them young and tender, and all of them 
good eating. 

In shooting grouse we sometimes run across 
rabbits. There are two kinds of these. One is 
the little cottontail, almost precisely similar in 
appearance to the common gray rabbit of the 
Eastern woods. It abounds in all the patches of 
dense cover along the river bottoms and in the 
larger creeks, and can be quite easily shot at all 
times, but especially when there is any snow on 
the ground. It is eatable, but hardly ever killed 
except to poison and throw out as bait for the 
wolves. 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 1 1 1 

The other kind is the great jack-rabbit. This 
is a characteristic animal of the plains; quite as 
much so as the antelope or prairie dog. It is not 
very abundant, but is found everywhere over the 
open ground, both on the prairie or those river 
bottoms which are not wooded, and in the more 
open valleys and along the gentle slopes of the 
Bad Lands. Sometimes it keeps to the patches of 
sage-brush, and in such cases will lie close to the 
ground when approached; but more often it is 
found in the short grass, where there is no cover 
at all to speak of, and relies upon its speed for its 
safety. It is a comical-looking beast, with its 
huge ears and long legs, and runs very fast, with a 
curious lop-sided gait, as if it was off its balance. 
After running a couple of hundred yards it will 
generally stop and sit up erect on its haunches to 
look around and see if it is pursued. In winter it 
turns snow-white, except that the tips of the ears 
remain black. The flesh is dry, and I have never 
eaten it unless I could get nothing else. 

Jack-rabbits are not plentiful enough nor valu- 
able enough to warrant a man's making a hunting 
trip solely for their sakes ; and the few that I have 
shot have been killed with the rifle while out after 
other game. They offer beautiful marks for tar- 
get practice when they sit upon their haunches. 
But though hardly worth powder, they afford ex- 
cellent sport when coursed with greyhounds, 



112 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

being very fleet, and when closely pressed able to 
double so quickly that the dogs shoot by them. 
For reasons already given, however, it is difficult 
to keep sporting dogs on the plains, though doubt- 
less in the future coursing with greyhounds will 
become a recognized Western sport. 

This finishes the account of the small game of 
the northern cattle country. The wild turkey is 
not found with us ; but it is an abundant bird far- 
ther south, and eagerly followed by the ranchmen 
in whose neighborhood it exists. And as it is 
easily the king of all game birds, and as its pursuit 
is a peculiarly American form of sport, some ac- 
count of how it is hunted in the southern plains 
country may be worth reading. The following is 
an extract from a letter written to me by my 
brother, in December, 1875, while he was in Texas, 
containing an account of some of his turkey-hunt- 
ing experience in that State. The portion relat- 
ing how the birds are coursed with greyhounds is 
especially markworthy; it reminds one of the 
method of killing the great bustard with gaze- 
hounds, as described in English sporting books of 
two centuries back. 

"Here, some hundred miles south and west of 
Fort McKavett, are the largest turkey-roosts in 
the world. This beautiful fertile valley, through 
which the deep, silent stream of the Llano flows, 
is densely wooded with grand old pecan-trees 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 113 

along its banks; as are those of its minor tribu- 
taries which come boiHng down from off the im- 
mense upland water-shed of the staked plains, 
cutting the sides of the ' divide ' into narrow can- 
yons. The journey to this sportsman's paradise 
was over the long-rolling plains of Western Texas. 
Hour after hour through the day's travel we 
w^ould drop into the trough of some great plains- 
wave only to toil on up to the crest of the next, 
and be met by an endless vista of boundless, bil- 
lowy-looking prairie. We were following the old 
Fort Terret trail, its ruts cut so deep in the prairie 
soil by the heavy supply wagons that these ten 
years have not healed the scars in the earth's face. 
At last, after journeying for leagues through the 
stunted live oaks, we saw from the top of one of 
the larger divides a dark bluish line against the 
horizon, — the color of distant leafless trees, — and 
knew that it meant we should soon open out the 
valley. Another hour brought us over the last 
divide, and then our hunting-grounds lay before 
and below us. All along through the unbroken 
natural fields the blacktail and prong-horn abound,' 
and feast to their heart's content all the winter 
through on the white, luscious, and nutritious mes- 
quite grass. Through the valley with its flashing 
silver stream ran the dark line of the famous pecan- 
tree forests — the nightly resting-place of that 
king of game birds, the wild turkey. It would 

VOL. 1.— 8 



114 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

soiind like romancing to tell of the endless number 
and variety of the waterfowl upon the river; 
while the multitude of game fish inhabiting the 
waters make the days spent on the river with the 
rod rival in excitement and good sport the nights 
passed gun in hand among the trees in the roosts. 
Of course, as we are purely out on a turkey shoot, 
during the day no louder sport is permitted than 
whipping the stream, or taking the greyhounds 
well back on the plains away from the river to 
course antelope, jack-rabbit, or maybe even some 
fine old gobbler himself. 

" When, after our journey, we reached the brink 
of the canyon ; to drop down into the vaUey, pass 
over the lowlands, and settle ourselves comfort- 
ably in camp under the shadow of the old stockade 
fort by the river, was a matter of but a few hours. 
There we waited for the afternoon shadows to 
lengthen and the evening to come, when off we 
went up the stream for five or six miles to a spot 
where some mighty forest monarchs with huge, 
bare, spreading hmbs had caught the eye of one of 
our sporting scouts in the afternoon. Leaving 
our horses half a mile from the place, we walked 
silently along the river bank through the jungle 
to the roosting-trees, where we scattered, and each 
man secreted himself as best he could in the under- 
brush, or in a hollow stump, or in the reeds of the 
river itself. The sun was setting, and over the hills 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 115 

and from the lowlands came the echoes of the 
familiar gobble, gobble, gobble, as each strutting, 
foolishly proud cock headed his admiring family 
for the roost, after their day's feeding on the up- 
lands. Soon, as I lay close and hushed in my 
hiding-place, sounds like the clinking of silver, fol- 
lowed by what seemed like a breath of the wind 
i-ushing through the trees, struck my ears. I 
hardly dared breathe, for the sounds were made 
by the snapping of a gobbler's quills and his rust- 
ling feathers ; and immediately a magnificent old 
bird, swelling and clucking, bullying his wives and 
abusing his weaker children to the last, trod ma- 
jestically down to the water's edge, and, after 
taking his evening drink, winged his way to his 
favorite bough above, where he was joined, one by 
one, by his family and relations and friends, who 
came by tens and dozens from the surrounding 
country. Soon in the rapidly darkening twilight 
the superb old pecan-trees looked as if they were 
bending under a heavy crop of the most odd- 
shaped and lively kind of fruit. The air was filled 
with the peevish pi-ou ! pi-ou ! of the sleepy birds. 
Gradually, the noisy fluttering subsided, and the 
last faint unsettled peep, even, was hushed. Dead 
silence reigned, and we waited and watched. The 
moon climbed up, and in another hour, as we 
looked through the tree-tops, we could make out 
against the hght background of the sky, almost as 



ii6 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

clearly as by day, the sleeping victims of our guns 
and rifles. A low soft whistle was passed along 
from man to man ; and the signal given, how dif- 
ferent the scene became ! A deafening report sud- 
denly rang out into the silent night, a flash of 
light belched from the gun-muzzle, and a heavy 
thud followed as twenty pounds of turkey struck 
the ground. In our silent moccasins we flitted 
about under the roost, and report after report on 
all sides told how good the sport was and how ex- 
cellent the chance that the boys at McKavett 
would have plenty of turkeys at their Christmas 
dinner. The turkeys were so surprised by the 
sudden noise, so entirely unprepared for the visit 
of the sportsman to their secluded retreat, that 
they did not know what to make of it, often re- 
maining stupidly on their branch after a com- 
panion five feet off had been shot down. With 
the last bird shot or flown away ended our even- 
ing's sport. All the dead birds were gathered to- 
gether and strapped in bunches by our saddles and 
on the pack-mules. It does not take many pecan- 
and grass-fed turkeys to make a load, and back 
we trotted to camp, the steel hoofs striking into 
the prairie soil with a merry ring of triumph over 
the night's work. The hour was nearly midnight 
when we sat down to the delicately browned 
turkey-steaks in the mess tent, and realized 
that we had enjoyed the delights of one of the 



Grouse of the Northern Plains 1 1 7 

best sports in Texas — turkey-shooting in the 
roosts. 

"Early in the afternoon following the night's 
sport we left the fort mounted on fine three-quar- 
ter Kentucky thoroughbreds, and, taking the 
eleven greyhounds, struck off six or eight miles 
into the plains. Then spreading into line we 
alternated dogs and horses, and keeping a general 
direction, beat up the small oak clumps, grass 
clusters, or mesquite jungles as we went along. 
Soon, with a loud whirr of wings, three or four 
turkeys rose out of the grass ahead, started up by 
one of the greyhounds; the rest of the party 
closed in from all sides; dogs and men choosing 
each the bird they marked as theirs. The turkey, 
after towering a bit, with wings set struck off at 
a pace like a bullet, and with eyes fixed upwards 
the hounds coursed after him. It was whip and 
spur for a mile as hard as horse, man, and hound 
could make the pace. The turkey at last came 
down nearer and nearer the ground, its small wings 
refusing to bear the weight of the heavy body. 
Finally, down he came and began running; then 
the hounds closed in on him and forced him up 
again, as is always the case. The second flight 
was not a strong one, and soon he was skimming 
ten or even a less number of feet from the ground. 
Now came the sport of it all; the hounds were 
bunched and running like a pack behind him. 



ii8 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

Suddenly old ' Grimbeard,' in the heart of the 
pack, thought it was time for the supreme effort ; 
with a rush he went to the front, and, as a mighty 
spring carried him up in the air, he snapped his 
clean, cruel fangs under the brave old gobbler, 
who by a great effort rose just out of reach. One 
after another, in the next twenty -five yards, each 
hound made his trial and failed. At last the old 
hound again made his rush, sprang up a wonder- 
ful height into the air, and cut the bird down as 
with a knife. 

" The first flight of a turkey when being coursed 
is rarely more than a mile, and the second about 
half as long. After that, if it gets up at all again, 
it is for very short flights, so near the ground that 
it is soon cut down by any hound. The astonish- 
ing springs a greyhound who is an old hand at 
turkey coursing will make, are a constant source 
of surprise and wonder to those fond of the sport. 
A turkey, after coming down from his first flight, 
will really perform the feat which fable attributes 
to the ostrich: that is, will run its head into a 
clump of bushes and stand motionless as if, since 
it cannot see its foes, it were itself equally invis- 
ible. During the day turkeys are scattered all 
over the plains, and it is no unusual thing to get 
in one afternoon's ride eight or ten of them." 



CHAPTER IV 

THE DEER OF THE RIVER BOTTOMS 

OF all the large game of the United States, 
the white-tail deer is the best known and 
the most widely distributed. Taking the 
Union as a whole, fully ten men will be found who 
have killed white-tail for one who has killed any 
other kind of large game. And it is the only 
ruminant animal which is able to live on in the 
land even when it has been pretty thickly settled. 
There is hardly a State wherein it does not still 
exist, at least in some out-of-the-way comer ; and 
long after the elk and the buffalo have passed 
away, and when the big-horn and prong-horn have 
become rare indeed, the white-tail deer will still 
be common in certain parts of the country. 

When, less than five years ago, cattle were first 
driven on to the northern plains, the white-tail 
were the least plentiful and the least sought after 
of all the large game; but they have held their 
own as none of the others have begun to do, and 
are already in certain localities more common than 
any other kind, and indeed in many places are 
more common than all other kinds put together. 

1 19 



I20 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

The ranchmen along the Powder River, for in- 
stance, now have to content themselves with 
white-tail venison unless they make long trips 
back among the hills. The same is rapidly get- 
ting to be true of the Little Missouri. This is 
partly because the skin- and meat -hunters find the 
chase of this deer to be the most tedious and least 
remunerative species of hunting, and therefore 
only turn their attention to it when there is noth- 
ing else left to hunt, and partly because the sheep 
and cattle and the herdsmen who follow them are 
less likely to trespass on their grounds than on the 
grounds of other game. The white-tail is the deer 
of the river bottoms and of the large creeks, whose 
beds contain plenty of brush and timber running 
down into them. It prefers the densest cover, in 
which it lies hid all day, and it is especially fond 
of wet, swampy places, where a horse runs the risk 
of being engulfed. Thus it is very rarely jumped 
by accident, and when the cattle stray into its 
haunts, which is but seldom, the cowboys are not 
apt to follow them. Besides, unlike most other 
game, it has no aversion to the presence of cattle, 
and in the morning and evening will come out 
and feed freely among them. 

This last habit was the cause of our getting a 
fine buck a few days before last Christmas. The 
weather was bitterly cold, the spirit in the ther- 
mometer sometimes going down at night to 50° 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 121 

below zero and never for over a fortnight getting 
above — 10° (Fahrenheit). Snow covered the 
ground, to the depth, however, of but a few inches, 
for in the cattle country the snowfall is always 
light. When the cold is so great it is far from 
pleasant to be out-of-doors. Still, a certain 
amount of riding about among the cattle and 
ponies had to be done, and almost every day was 
spent by at least one of us in the saddle. We wore 
the heaviest kind of all-wool underclothing, with 
flannels, lined boots, and great fur coats, caps, and 
gauntlets or mittens, but yet after each ride one 
or the other of us would be almost sure to come 
in with a touch of the frost somewhere about him. 
On one ride I froze my nose and one cheek, and 
each of the men froze his ears, fingers, or toes at 
least once during the fortnight. This generally 
happened while riding over a plain or plateau with 
a strong wind blowing in our faces. When the 
wind was on our backs it was not bad fun to gal- 
lop along through the white weather, but when we 
had to face it, it cut through us like a keen knife. 
The ponies did not seem to mind the cold much, 
but the cattle were very uncomfortable, standing 
humped up in the bushes except for an hour or 
two at mid-day, when they ventured out to feed ; 
some of the young stock, which were wintering on 
the range for the first time, died from the expos- 
ure, A very weak animal wc would bring into 



122 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the cow-shed and feed with hay; but this was 
only done in cases of the direst necessity, as such 
an animal has then to be fed for the rest of the 
winter, and the quantity of hay is limited. In 
the Bad Lands proper, cattle do not wander far, 
the deep ravines affording them a refuge from the 
bitter icy blasts of the winter gales ; but if by any 
accident caught out on the open prairie in a bliz- 
zard, a herd will drift before it for maybe more 
than a hundred miles, until it finds a shelter ca- 
pable of holding it. For this reason it is best to 
keep more or less of a lookout over all the bunches 
of beasts, riding about among them every few days 
and turning back any herd that begins to straggle 
toward the open plains; though in winter, when 
weak and emaciated, the cattle must be disturbed 
and driven as little as possible, or the loss among 
them will be fearful. 

One afternoon, while most of us were away from 
the ranch-house, one of the cowboys, riding in 
from his day's outing over the range, brought word 
that he had seen two white-tail deer, a buck and 
a doe, feeding with some cattle on the side of a 
hill across the river, and not much more than half 
a mile from the house. There was about an hour 
of daylight left, and one of the foremen, a tall, 
fine-looking fellow named Ferris, the best rider on 
the ranch, but not an unusually good shot, started 
out at once after the deer ; for in the late fall and 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 12 



<> 



early winter we generally kill a good deal of game, 
as it then keeps well and serves as a food supply 
throughout the cold months; after January, we 
hunt as little as possible. Ferris found the deer 
easily enough, but they started before he could 
get a standing shot at them, and when he fired as 
they ran, he only broke one of the buck's hind 
legs, just above the ankle. He followed it in the 
snow for several miles, across the river, and down 
near the house to the end of the bottom, and then 
back toward the house. The buck was a cunning 
old beast, keeping in the densest cover, and often 
doubling back on its trail and sneaking off to one 
side as his pursuer passed by. Finally, it grew too 
dark to see the tracks any longer, and Ferris came 
home. 

Next morning, early, we went out to where he 
had left the trail, feeling very sure from his de- 
scription of the place (which was less than a mile 
from the house) that we would get the buck; for 
when he had abandoned the pursuit the deer was 
in a copse of bushes and young trees some hun- 
dreds of yards across, and in this it had doubtless 
spent the night, for it was extremely imlikely that, 
wounded and tired as it was, it would go any dis- 
tance after finding that it was no longer pursued. 

When we got to the thicket we first made a cir- 
cuit round it to see if the wounded animal had 
broken cover, but though there w^ere fresh deer 



124 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

tracks leading both in and out of it, none of them 
were made by a cripple ; so we knew he was still 
within. It would seem to be a very easy task to 
track up and kill a broken-legged buck in light 
snow; but we had to go very cautiously, for 
though with only three legs he could still run a 
good deal faster than either of us on two, and we 
were anxious not to alarm him and give him a 
good start. Then there were several well-beaten 
cattle trails through the thicket, and, in addition 
to that, one or two other deer had been walking 
to and fro within it ; so that it was hard work to 
follow the tracks. After working some little time 
we hit on the right trail, finding where the buck 
had turned into the thickest growth. While Fer- 
ris followed carefully in on the tracks, I stationed 
myself farther on toward the outside, knowing that 
the buck would in all likelihood start up wind. 
In a minute or two Ferris came on the bed where 
he had passed the night, and which he had evi- 
dently just left; a shout informed me that the 
game was on foot, and immediately afterward the 
crackling and snapping of the branches were heard 
as the deer rushed through them. I ran as rap- 
idly and quietly as possible toward the place where 
the sounds seemed to indicate that he would break 
cover, stopping under a small tree. A minute 
afterward he appeared, some thirty yards off on 
the edge of the thicket, and halted for a second to 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 125 

look round before going into the open. Only his 
head and antlers were visible above the bushes 
which hid from view the rest of his body. He 
turned his head sharply toward me as I raised the 
rifle, and the bullet went fairly into his throat, 
just under the jaw, breaking his neck, and bring- 
ing him down in his tracks with hardly a kick. 
He was a fine buck of eight points, unusually fat, 
considering that the rutting season was just over. 
We dressed it at once, and, as the house was so 
near, determined we would drag it there over the 
snow ourselves, without going back for a horse. 
Each took an antler, and the body slipped along 
very easily; but so intense was the cold that we 
had to keep shifting sides all the time, the hand 
which grasped the horn becoming numb almost 
immediately. 

White-tail are very canny, and know perfectly 
well what threatens danger and what does not. 
Their larger, and to my mind nobler, relation, the 
black-tail, is, if anything, easier to approach and 
kill, and yet is by no means so apt to stay in the 
immediate neighborhood of a ranch, where there 
is always more or less noise and confusion. The 
bottom on which my ranch-house stands is a 
couple of miles in length, and well wooded; all 
through last summer it was the home of a number 
of white-tails, and most of them are on it to this 
moment. Two fawns in especial were really 



126 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

amusingly tame, at one time spending their days 
hid in an almost impenetrable tangle of bullberry 
bushes, whose hither edge was barely a hundred 
yards from the ranch-house; and in the evening 
they could frequently be seen from the door as 
they came out to feed. In walking out after sim- 
set, or in riding home when night had fallen, we 
would often run across them when it was too dark 
to make out anything but their flaunting white 
tails as they cantered out of the way. Yet for all 
their seeming familiarity they took good care not 
to expose themselves to danger. We were reluc- 
tant to molest them, but one day, having per- 
formed our usual weekly or fortnightly feat of 
eating up about everything there was in the house, 
it was determined that the two deer (for it was 
late in autumn and they were then well grown) 
should be sacrificed. Accordingly one of us sal- 
lied out, but found that the sacrifice was not to be 
consummated so easily, for the should-be victims 
appeared to distinguish perfectly well between a 
mere passer-by, whom they regarded with abso- 
lute indifference, and any one who harbored sinis- 
ter designs. They kept such a sharp look-out, and 
made off so rapidly if any one tried to approach 
them, that on two evenings the appointed hunter 
returned empty-handed, and by the third some- 
one else had brought in a couple of black-tail. 
After that, no necessity arose for molesting the 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 127 

two "tame deer," for whose sound common-sense 
we had all acquired a greatly increased respect. 

When not much molested white-tail feed in the 
evening or late afternoon ; but if often shot at and 
chased they only come out at night. They are 
very partial to the water, and in the warm summer 
nights will come down into the prairie ponds and 
stand knee-deep in them, eating the succulent 
marsh plants. Most of the plains rivers flow 
through sandy or muddy beds with no vegetable 
growth, and to these, of course, the deer merely 
come down to drink or refresh themselves by bath- 
ing, as they contain nothing to eat. 

Throughout the day the white-tails keep in the 
densest thickets, choosing if possible those of con- 
siderable extent. For this reason they are con- 
fined to the bottoms of the rivers and the mouths 
of the largest creeks, the cover elsewhere being too 
scanty to suit them. It is very difficult to make 
them leave one of their haunts during the day- 
time. They lie very close, permitting a man to 
pass right by them; and the twigs and branches 
surrounding them are so thick and interlaced that 
they can hear the approach of any one from a long 
distance off, and hence are rarely surprised. If 
they think there is danger that the intruder will 
discover them, they arise and skulk silently off 
through the thickest part of the brush. If fol- 
low^ed, they keep well ahead, moving perfectly 



128 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

noiselessly through the thicket, often going round 
in a circle and not breaking cover until hard 
pressed ; yet all the time stepping with such sharp- 
eyed caution that the pursuing hunter will never 
get a glimpse of the quarry, though the patch of 
brush may not be fifty rods across. 

At times the white-tail will lie so close that it 
may almost be trodden on. One June morning I 
was riding down along the river, and came to a 
long bottom, crowded with rose-bushes, all in 
bloom. It was crossed in every direction by 
cattle paths, and a drove of long-horned Texans 
were scattered over it. A cow-pony gets accus- 
tomed to travelling at speed along the cattle trails, 
and the one I bestrode threaded its way among 
the twisted narrow paths with perfect ease, loping 
rapidly onward through a sea of low rose-bushes, 
covered with the sweet, pink flowers. They gave 
a bright color to the whole plain, while the air was 
filled with the rich, full songs of the yellow- 
breasted meadow larks, as they perched on the 
topmost sprays of the little trees. Suddenly, a 
white-tail doe sprang up almost from under the 
horse's feet, and scudded off with her white flag 
flaunting. There was no reason for harming her 
and she made a pretty picture as she bounded 
lightly off among the rose-red flowers, passing 
without heed through the ranks of the long-horned 
and savage-looking steers. 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 1 29 

Doubtless she had a little spotted fawn not far 
away. These wee fellows soon after birth grow 
very cunning and able to take care of themselves, 
keeping in the densest part of the brush, through 
which they run and dodge like a rabbit. If taken 
young, they grow very tame and are most dainty 
pets. One which we had round the house an- 
swered well to its name. It was at first fed with 
milk, which it lapped eagerly from a saucer, shar- 
ing the meal with the two cats, who rather re- 
sented its presence and cuffed it heartily when 
they thought it was greedy and was taking more 
than its share. As it grew older it would eat 
bread or potatoes from our hands, and was per- 
fectly fearless. At night it was let go or put in 
the cow-shed, whichever was handiest, but it was 
generally round in time for breakfast next morn- 
ing. A blue ribbon with a bell attached was hung 
round its neck, so as to prevent its being shot; 
but in the end it shared the fate of all pets, for one 
night it went off and never came back again. 
Perhaps it strayed away of its own accord, but 
more probably some raw hand at hunting saw it, 
and slaughtered it without noticing the bell hang- 
ing from its neck. 

The best way to kill white-tail is to still-hunt 
carefully through their haunts at dusk, when the 
deer leave the deep recesses in which their day- 
beds lie, and come out to feed in the more open 

VOL. I.— 9 



I30 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

parts. For this kind of hunting, no dress is so 
good as a buckskin suit and moccasins. The 
moccasins enable one to tread softly and noise- 
lessly, while the buckskin suit is of a most incon- 
spicuous color, and makes less rustling than any 
other material when passing among projecting 
twigs. Care must be taken to always hunt up 
wind, and to advance without any sudden mo- 
tions, walking close in to the edge of the thickets, 
and keeping a sharp lookout, as it is of the first im- 
portance to see the game before the game sees you. 
The feeding-grounds of the deer may vary. If they 
are on a bottom studded with dense copses, they 
move out on the open between them ; if they are in 
a dense wood, they feed along its edges ; but, by 
preference, they keep in the little glades and among 
the bushes underneath the trees. Wherever they 
may be found, they are rarely far from thick cover, 
and are always on the alert, lifting up their heads 
every few bites they take to see if any danger 
threatens them. But, unlike the antelope, they 
seem to rely for safety even more upon escaping 
observation than upon discovering danger while it 
is still far off, and so are usually in sheltered places 
where they cannot be seen at any distance. Hence, 
shots at them are generally obtained, if obtained 
at all, at very much closer range than at any 
other kind of game; the average distance would 
be nearer fifty than a hundred yards. On the 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 131 

other hand, more of the shots obtained are run- 
ning ones than is the case with the same number 
taken at antelope or black-tail. 

If the deer is standing just out of a fair-sized 
wood, it can often be obtained by creeping up 
along the edge; if seen among the large trees, it 
is even more easily still-hunted, as a tree-trunk 
can be readily kept in line with the quarry, and 
thus prevent its suspecting any approach. But 
only a few white-tail are killed by regular and 
careful stalking; in much the greater number of 
instances the hunter simply beats, patiently and 
noiselessly from leeward, carefully through the 
clumps of trees and bushes, always prepared to see 
his game, and with his rifle at the ready. Sooner 
or later, as he steals round a corner, he either sees 
the motionless form of a deer, not a great distance 
off, regarding him intently for a moment before 
taking flight ; or else he hears a sudden crash, and 
catches a glimpse of the animal as it lopes into the 
bushes. In either case, he must shoot quick; but 
the shot is a close one. 

If he is heard or seen a long way off, the deer is 
very apt, instead of running away at full speed, to 
skulk off quietly through the bushes. But when 
suddenly startled, the white-tail makes off at a 
great rate, at a rolling gallop, the long, broad tail, 
pure white, held up in the air. In the dark or in 
thick woods, often all that can be seen is the flash 



132 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

of white from the tail. The head is carried low 
and well forward in running ; a buck, when pass- 
ing swiftly through thick underbrush, usually 
throws his horns back almost on his shoulders, 
with his nose held straight in front. White-tail 
venison is, in season, most delicious eating, only 
inferior to the mutton of the mountain sheep. 

Among the places which are most certain to 
contain white-tails may be mentioned the tracts 
of swampy ground covered with willows and the 
like, which are to be found in a few (and but a few) 
localities through the plains country; there are, 
for example, several such along the Powder River, 
just below where the Little Powder empties into 
it. Here there is a dense growth of slim-stemmed 
yoimg trees, sometimes almost impenetrable, and 
in other places opening out into what seem like 
arched passage-ways, through which a man must 
at times go almost on all fours. The ground may 
be covered with rank shrubbery, or it may be bare 
mud with patches of tall reeds. Here and there, 
scattered through these swamps, are pools of 
water, and sluggish ditches occasionally cut their 
way deep below the surface of the muddy soil. 
Game trails are abundant all through them, and 
now and then there is a large path beaten out by 
the cattle ; while at intervals there are glades and 
openings. A horse must be very careful in going 
through such a swamp or he will certainly get 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 133 

mired, and even a man must be cautious about 
his footing. In the morning or late afternoon a 
man stands a good chance of killing deer in such 
a place, if he hunts carefully through it. It is 
comparatively easy to make but little noise in the 
mud and among the wet, yielding swamp plants; 
and by moving cautiously along the trails and 
through the o^^enings, one can see some little 
distance ahead; and toward evening the pools 
should be visited, and the borders as far back as 
possible carefully examined for any deer that 
come to drink, and the glades should be searched 
through for any that may be feeding. In the soft 
mud, too, a fresh track can be followed as readily 
as if in snow, and without exposing the hunter to 
such probabiHty of detection. If a shot is ob- 
tained at all, it is at such close quarters as to more 
than counterbalance the dimness of the light, and 
to render the chance of a miss very unlikely. 
Such hunting is, for a change, very pleasant, the 
perfect stillness of the place, the quiet with which 
one has to move, and the constant expectation of 
seeing game keeping one's nerves always on the 
stretch; but after a while it grows tedious, and 
it makes a man feel cramped to be always ducking 
and crawling through such places. It is not to 
be compared, in cool weather, with still-hunting 
on the open hills ; nevertheless, in the furious heat 
of the summer sun it has its advantages, for it is 



134 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

not often so oppressingly hot in the swamp as it 
is on the open prairie in the dry thickets. 

The white-tail is the only kind of large game 
for which the shot-gun can occasionally be used. 
At times, in the dense brush it is seen, if seen at 
all, at such short distances, and the shots have to 
be taken so hurriedly, that the shot-gun is really 
the best weapon wherewith to attempt its death. 
One method of taking it is to have trained dogs 
hunt through a valley and drive the deer to guns 
stationed at the opposite end. With a single slow 
hound, given to baying, a hunter can often follow 
the deer on foot in the method adapted in most of 
the Eastern States for the capture of both the 
gray and the red fox. If the dog is slow and 
noisy, the deer will play round in circles and can 
be cut off and shot from a stand. 

Any dog will soon put a deer out of a thicket, 
or drive it down a valley ; but without a dog it is 
often difficult to drive deer toward the rimaway 
or place at which the guns are stationed, for the 
white-tail will often skulk round and roimd a 
thicket instead of putting out of it when a man 
enters ; and even when started it may break back 
past the driver instead of going toward the guns. 

In all these habits white-tail are the very re- 
verse of such game as antelope. Antelope care 
nothing at all about being seen, and indeed 
rather court observation, while the chief anxiety 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 135 

of a white-tail is to go unobserved. In passing 
through a country where there are antelope, it is 
almost impossible not to see them; while, where 
there are an equal number of white-tail, the odds 
are manifold against travellers catching a glimpse 
of a single individual. The prong-horn is per- 
fectly indifferent as to whether the pursuer sees 
him, so long as in his turn he is able to see the 
pursuer; and he relies entirely upon his speed 
and wariness for his safety; he never trusts for 
a moment to eluding observation. White-tail, 
on the contrary, rely almost exclusively either 
upon lying perfectly still and letting the danger 
pass by, or else, upon skulking off so slyly as 
to be unobserved ; it is only when hard pressed 
or suddenly startled that they bound boldly and 
freely away. 

In many of the dense jungles without any 
opening the brush is higher than a man's head, 
and one has then practically no chance at all of 
getting a shot on foot when crossing through such 
places. But I have known instances where a man 
had himself driven in a tall light wagon through a 
place like this, and got several snap-shots at the 
deer, as he caught momentary glimpses of them 
stealing off through the underbrush ; and another 
method of pursuit in these jungles is occasionally 
followed by one of my foremen, who, mounted 
on a quiet horse, which will stand fire, pushes 



136 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

through the bushes and now and then gets a 
quick shot at a deer from horseback, I have 
tried this method myself, but without success, 
for, though my hunting-horse, old Manitou, stands 
as steady as a rock, yet I find it impossible to 
shoot the rifle with any degree of accuracy from 
the saddle. 

Except on such occasions as those just men- 
tioned, the white-tail is rarely killed while hunting 
on horseback. This last term, by-the-way, must 
not be understood in the sense in which it would 
be taken by the fox-hunter of the South, or by 
the Califomian and Texan horsemen who course 
hare, antelope, and wild turkey with their fleet 
greyhounds. With us, hunting on horseback 
simply means that the horse is ridden not only 
to the hunting-grounds, but also through them, 
until the game is discovered; then the hunter 
immediately dismounts, shooting at once if the 
animal is near enough and has seen him, or stalk- 
ing up to it on foot if it is a good distance off and 
he is still unobserved. Where great stretches of 
country have to be covered, as in antelope shoot- 
ing, hunting on horseback is almost the only way 
followed ; but the haunts and habits of the white- 
tail deer render it nearly useless to try to kill them 
in this way, as the horse would be sure to alarm 
them by making a noise, and even if he did not 
there would hardly be time to dismount and take 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 137 

a snap-shot. Only once have I ever killed a white- 
tail buck while hunting on horseback ; and at that 
time I had been expecting to fall in with black- 
tail. 

This was while we had been making a wagon 
trip to the westward, following the old Keogh 
trail, which was made by the heavy army wagons 
that journeyed to Fort Keogh in the old days 
when the soldiers were, except a few daring 
trappers, the only white men to be seen on the 
last great hunting-groimd of the Indians. It was 
abandoned as a military route several years ago, 
and is now only rarely travelled over, either by 
the canvas-topped ranch-wagon of some wander- 
ing cattlemen, — like ourselves, — or else by a 
small party of emigrants, in two or three prairie 
schooners, which contain all their household 
goods. Nevertheless, it is still as plain and dis- 
tinct as ever. The two deep parallel ruts, cut 
into the sod by the wheels of the heavy wagon, 
stretch for scores of miles in a straight line across 
the level prairie, and take great turns and doub- 
lings to avoid the impassable portions of the Bad 
Lands. The track is always perfectly plain, for 
in the dry climate of the Western plains, the 
action of the weather tends to preserve rather 
than to obliterate it ; where it leads down-hill, the 
snow water has cut and widened the ruts into deep 
gullies, so that a wagon has at those places to 



138 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

travel alongside the road. From any little rising 
in the prairie the road can be seen, a long way 
off, as a dark line, which, when near, resolves itself 
into two sharply defined parallel cuts. Such a 
road is a great convenience as a landmark. When 
travelling along it, or one like it, the hunters can 
separate in all directions, and no matter how long 
or how far they hunt, there is never the least diffi- 
culty about finding camp. For the general direc- 
tion in which the road lies, is, of course, kept in 
mind, and it can be reached whether the sun is 
down or not ; then a glance tells if the wagon has 
passed, and all that remains to be done is to 
gallop along the trail until camp is found. 

On the trip in question we had at first very bad 
weather. Leaving the ranch in the morning, two 
of us, who were mounted, pushed on ahead to 
hunt, the wagon following slowly, with a couple 
of spare saddle-ponies leading behind it. Early 
in the afternoon, while riding over the crest of a 
great divide, which separates the drainage basins 
of two important creeks, we saw that a tremen- 
dous storm was brewing with that marvellous 
rapidity which is so marked a characteristic of 
weather changes on the plains. A towering mass 
of clouds gathered in the northwest, turning that 
whole quarter of the sky to an inky blackness. 
From there the storm rolled down toward us at a 
furious speed, obscuring by degrees the light of 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 139 

the sun, and extending its wings toward each side, 
as if to overlap any that tried to avoid its path. 
Against the dark background of the mass could 
be seen pillars and clouds of gray mist, whirled 
hither and thither by the wind, and sheets of level 
rain driven before it. The edges of the wings 
tossed to and fro, and the wind shrieked and 
moaned as it swept over the prairie. It was a 
storm of unusual intensity; the prairie-fowl rose 
in flocks before it, scudding with spread wings 
toward the thickest cover, and the herds of ante- 
lope ran across the plain like race-horses to gather 
in the hollows and behind the low ridges. 

We spurred hard to get out of the open, riding 
with loose reins for the creek. The centre of the 
storm swept by behind us, fairly across our track, 
and we only got a wipe from the tail of it. Yet 
this itself we could not have faced in the open. 
The first gust caught us a few hundred yards from 
the creek, almost taking us from the saddle, and 
driving the rain and hail in stinging level sheets 
against us. We galloped to the edge of a deep 
wash-out, scrambled into it at the risk of our 
necks, and huddled up with our horses under- 
neath the windward bank. Here we remained 
pretty well sheltered until the storm was over. 
Although it w^as August, the air became very 
cold. The wagon was fairly caught, and would 
have been blown over if the top had been on ; the 



I40 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

driver and horses escaped without injury, press- 
ing under the leeward side, the storm coming so 
level that they did not need a roof to protect them 
from the hail. Where the centre of the whirlwind 
struck, it did great damage, sheets of hailstones as 
large as pigeons' eggs striking the earth with the 
velocity of bullets ; next day the hailstones could 
have been gathered up by the bushel from the 
heaps that lay in the bottom of the gullies and 
ravines. One of my cowboys was out in the 
storm, during whose continuance he crouched 
under his horse's belly; coming home he came 
across some antelope so numb and stiffened that 
they could barely limp out of the way. 

Near my ranch the hail killed quite a number 
of lambs. These were the miserable remnants 
of a flock of twelve thousand sheep driven into 
the Bad Lands a year before, four fifths of whom 
had died during the first winter, to the delight of 
all the neighboring cattlemen. Cattlemen hate 
sheep because they eat the grass so close that 
cattle cannot live on the same ground. The 
sheep-herders are a morose, melancholy set of 
men, generally afoot, and with no companionship 
except that of the bleating idiots they are hired 
to guard. No man can associate with sheep and 
retain his self-respect. Intellectually, a sheep is 
about on the lowest level of the brute creation; 
why the early Christians admired it, whether 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 141 

young or old, is to a good cattleman always a 
profound mystery. 

The wagon came on to the creek, along whose 
banks we had taken shelter, and we then went 
into camp. It rained all night, and there was a 
thick mist, with continual sharp showers, all the 
next day and night. The wheeling was, in con- 
sequence, very heavy, and, after striking the 
Keogh trail, we were able to go along it but a 
few miles, before the fagged-out look of the team 
and the approach of evening warned us that we 
should have to go into camp while still a dozen 
miles from any pool or spring. ^Accordingly, we 
made what would have been a dry camp had it 
not been for the incessant down-pour of rain, 
which we gathered in the canvas wagon-sheet and 
in our oilskin overcoats in siifficient quantity to 
make coffee, having with infinite difficulty started 
a smouldering fire just to leeward of the wagon. 
The horses, feeding on the soaked grass, did not 
need water. An antelope, with the bold and 
heedless curiosity sometimes shown by its tribe, 
came up within two hundred yards of us as we 
were building the fire ; but though one of us took 
a shot at him, it missed. Our shaps and oil- 
skins had kept us perfectly dry, and as soon as 
our frugal supper was over, we coiled up among 
the bundles and boxes inside the wagon and slept 
soundly until daybreak. 



142 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

When the sun rose next day, the third we were 
out, the sky was clear, and we two horsemen at 
once prepared to make a hunt. Some three miles 
off to the south of where we were camped, the 
plateau on which we were sloped off into a great 
expanse of broken ground, with chains upon 
chains of steep hills, separated by deep valleys, 
winding and branching in every direction, their 
bottoms filled with trees and brushwood. Toward 
this place we rode, intending to go into it some 
little distance, and then to hunt along through it 
near the edge. As soon as we got down near the 
brushy ravine we rode along without talking, 
guiding the horses as far as possible on earthy 
places, where they would neither stumble nor 
strike their feet against stones, and not letting 
our rifle-barrels or spurs clink against anything. 
Keeping outside of the brush, a little up the side 
of the hill, one of us would ride along each side of 
the ravine, examining intently with our eyes 
every clump of trees or brushwood. For some 
time we saw nothing, but, finally, as we were rid- 
ing both together round the jutting spur of a 
steep hill, my companion suddenly brought his 
horse to a halt, and, pointing across the shelving 
bend to a patch of trees well up on the opposite 
side of a broad ravine, asked me if I did not see 
a deer in it. I was off the horse in a second, 
throwing the reins over his head. We were in 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 143 

the shadow of the cHff-shoulder, and with the 
wind in our favor; so we were unHkely to be ob- 
served by the game. I looked long and eagerly 
toward the spot indicated, which was about a 
hundred and twenty-five yards from us, but at first 
could see nothing. By this time, however, the 
experienced plainsman who was with me was sat- 
isfied that he was right in his supposition, and he 
told me to try again and look for a patch of red. 
I saw the patch at once, just glimmering through 
the bushes, but should certainly never have 
dreamed it was a deer if left to myself. Watch- 
ing it attentively I soon saw it move enough to sat- 
isfy me where the head lay ; kneeling on one knee 
and (as it was a little beyond point-blank range) 
holding at the top of the portion visible, I pulled 
trigger, and the bright-colored patch disappeared 
from among the bushes. The aim was a good 
one, for, on riding up to the brink of the ravine, 
we saw a fine white-tailed buck lying below us, 
shot through just behind the shoulder; he 
was still in the red coat, with his antlers in the 
velvet. 

A deer is far from being such an easy animal to 
see as the novice is apt to suppose. Until the 
middle of September he is in the red coat; after 
that time he is in the gray; but it is curious how 
each one harmonizes in tint with certain of the 
surroundings. A red doe lying down is, at a little 



144 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

distance, undistinguishable from the soil on which 
she is; while a buck in the gray can hardly be 
made out in dead timber. While feeding quietly 
or standing still, they rarely show the proud, free 
port we are accustomed to associate with the idea 
of a buck, and look rather ordinary, humble- 
seeming animals, not at all conspicuous or likely 
to attract the hunter's attention; but once let 
them be frightened, and as they stand facing the 
danger, or bound away from it, their graceful 
movements and lordly bearing leave nothing to 
be desired. The black-tail is a still nobler-looking 
animal; while an antelope, on the contrary, 
though as light and quick on its feet as is possible 
for any animal not possessing wings to be, yet 
has an angular, goat-like look, and by no means 
conveys to the beholder the same idea of grace 
that a deer does. 

In coming home, on this wagon trip, we made a 
long moonlight ride, passing over between sunset 
and sunrise what had taken us three days' journey 
on the outward march. Of our riding horses, two 
were still in good condition and able to stand 
a twenty -four hours' jaunt, in spite of hard work 
and rough usage ; the spare ones, as well as the 
team, were pretty well done up and could get 
along but slowly. All day long we had been riding 
beside the wagon over barren sage-brush plains, 
following the dusty trails made by the beef -herds 



The Deer of the River Bottoms 145 

that had been driven towards one of the Montana 
shipping towns. 

When we halted for the evening meal we came 
near learning by practical experience how easy it 
is to start a prairie fire. We were camped by a 
dry creek on a broad bottom covered with thick 
short grass, as dry as so much tinder. We wished 
to bum a good circle clear for the camp fire ; light- 
ing it, we stood round with branches to keep it 
under. While thus standing a puff of wind struck 
us; the fire roared like a wild beast as it darted 
up; and our hair and eyelashes were well singed 
before we had beaten it out. At one time it 
seemed as if, though but a very few feet in extent, 
it would actually get away from us ; in which case 
the whole bottom would have been a blazing fur- 
nace within five minutes. 

After supper, looking at the worn-out condition 
of the team, we realized that it would take three 
more days travelling at the rate we had been 
going to bring us in, and as the country was 
monotonous, without much game, we concluded 
we would leave the wagon with the driver, and 
taking advantage of the full moon, push through 
the whole distance before breakfast next morn- 
ing. Accordingly, we at nine o'clock again sad- 
dled the tough little ponies we had ridden all 
day and loped off out of the circle of firelight. 
For nine hours we rode steadily, generally at a 



VOL. 1. — 10 



146 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

quick lope, across the moon-lit prairie. The hoof- 
beats of our horses rang out in steady rhythm 
through the silence of the night, otherwise im- 
broken save now and then by the wailing cry of a 
coyote. The rolling plains stretched out on all 
sides of us, shimmering in the clear moonlight; 
and occasionally a band of spectral-looking ante- 
lope swept silently away from before our path. 
Once we went by a drove of Texan cattle, who 
stared wildly at the intruders ; as we passed they 
charged down by us, the ground rumbling beneath 
their tread, while their long horns knocked against 
each other with a sound like the clattering of a 
multitude of castanets. We could see clearly 
enough to keep our general course over the track- 
less plain, steering by the stars where the prairie 
was perfectly level and without landmarks; and 
our ride was timed well, for as we galloped down 
into the Valley of the Little Missouri the sky 
above the line of the level bluffs in our front was 
crimson with the glow of the unrisen sun. 



CHAPTER V 

THE BLACK-TAIL DEER 

FAR different from the low-scudding, brush- 
loving white-tail, is the black-tail deer, the 
deer of the ravines and the rocky uplands. 
In general shape and form, both are much alike; 
but the black-tail is the larger of the two, with 
heavier antlers, of which the prongs start from 
one another, as if each of the tines of a two- 
pronged pitchfork had bifurcated; and in some 
cases it looks as if the process had been again 
repeated. The tail — instead of being broad and 
bushy as a squirrel's, spreading from the base, and 
pure white to the tip — is round and close-haired, 
with the end black, though the rest is white. If 
an ordinary deer is running, its flaunting flag is 
almost its most conspicuous part; but no one 
would notice the tail of a black-tail deer. 

All deer vary greatly in size ; and a small black- 
tail buck will be surpassed in bulk by many white- 
tails ; but the latter never reaches the weight and 
height sometimes attained by the former. The 
same holds true of the antlers borne by the two 
animals; on the average, those of the black-tail 
are the heavier, and exceptionally large antlers of 

- 147 



148 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

this species are larger than any of the white-tail. 
Bucks of both kinds very often have, when full- 
grown, more than the normal number of ten 
points; sometimes these many-pronged antlers 
will be merely deformities, while in other in- 
stances the points are more symmetrical, and add 
greatly to the beauty and grandeur of the head. 
The venison of the black-tail is said to be inferior 
in quality to that of the white-tail ; but I have 
never been able to detect much difference, though, 
perhaps, on the whole, the latter is slightly better. 
The gaits of the two animals are widely different. 
The white-tail nms at a rolling gallop, striking the 
groimd with the forward feet first, the head held 
forward. The black-tail, on the contrary, holds 
its head higher up, and progresses by a series of 
prodigious boimds, striking the earth with all 
four feet at once, the legs held nearly stiff. It 
seems like an extraordinary method of running; 
and the violent exertion tires the deer sooner 
than does the more easy and natural gait of the 
white-tail ; but for a mile or so these rapidly suc- 
ceeding bounds enable the black-tail to get over 
the ground at remarkable speed. Over rough 
groimd, along precipitous slopes, and among the 
boulders of rocky cliffs, it will go with surprising 
rapidity and surefootedness, only surpassed by 
the feats of the big-horn in similar locahties, and 
not equalled by those of any other plains game. 



The Black-Tail Deer 149 

One of the noticeable things in Western plains 
hunting is the different zones or bands of terri- 
tory inhabited by different kinds of game. Along 
the alluvial land of the rivers and large creeks is 
found the white-tail. Back of those alluvial lands 
generally comes a broad tract of broken, hilly 
country, scantily clad with brush in some places ; 
this is the abode of the black-tail deer. And 
where these hills rise highest, and where the 
groimd is most rugged and barren, there the big- 
horn is foimd. After this hilly country is passed, 
in travelling away from the river, we come to the 
broad, level plains, the domain of the antelope. 
Of course, the habitats of the different species 
overlap at the edges; and this overlapping is 
most extended in the cases of the big-horn and 
the black-tail. 

The Bad Lands are the favorite haimts of the 
black-tail. Here the hills are steep and rugged, 
cut up and crossed in every direction by canyon- 
like ravines and valleys, which branch out and 
subdivide in the most intricate and perplexing 
manner. Here and there are small springs, or 
pools, marked by the greener vegetation growing 
round them. Along the bottoms and sides of the 
ravines there are patches of scrubby undergrowth, 
and in many of the pockets or glens in the sides 
of the hills the trees grow to some little height. 
High buttes rise here and there, naked to the top. 



150 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

or else covered with stunted pines and cedars, 
which also grow in the deep ravines and on the 
edges of the sheer canyons. Such lands, where the 
ground is roughest, and where there is some cover, 
even though scattered and scanty, are the best 
places to find the black-tail. Naturally their pur- 
suit needs very different qualities in the hunter 
from those required in the chase of the white-tail. 
In the latter case stealth and caution are the 
prime requisites ; while the man who would hunt 
and kill the deer of the uplands has more especial 
need of energy, activity, and endurance, of good 
judgment and of skill with the rifle. Hunting 
the black-tail is beyond all comparison the nobler 
sport. Indeed, there is no kind of plains hunting, 
except only the chase of the big-horn, more fitted 
to bring out the best and hardiest of the many 
qualities which go to make up a good hunter. 

It is still a moot question whether it is better 
to hunt on horseback or on foot; but the course 
of events is rapidly deciding it in favor of the 
latter method. Undoubtedly, it is easier and 
pleasanter to himt on horseback; and it has the 
advantage of covering a great deal of ground. 
But it is impossible to advance with such caution, 
and it is difficult to shoot as quickly, as when on 
foot; and where the deer are shy and not very 
plenty, the most enthusiastic must, slowly and 
reluctantly but surely, come to the conclusion 



The Black-Tail Deer 151 

that a large bag can only be made by the still- 
hunter who goes on foot. Of course, in the plains 
country it is not as in mountainous or thickly 
wooded regions, and the horse should almost 
always be taken as a means of conveyance to the 
hunting-grounds and from one point to another; 
but the places where game is expected should, as 
a rule, be hunted over on foot. This rule is by 
no means a general one, however. There are still 
many localities where the advantage of covering 
a great deal of ground more than counterbalances 
the disadvantage of being on horseback. About 
one third of my hunts are still made on horseback ; 
and in almost all the others I take old ]\Ianitou 
to carry me to and from the grounds and to pack 
out any game that may be killed. A hunting- 
horse is of no use whatever imless he will permit 
a man to jump from his back and fire with the 
greatest rapidity; and nowhere does practice 
have more to do with success than in the case of 
jumping off a horse to shoot at game which has 
just been seen. The various movements take a 
novice a good deal of time; while an old hand 
will be off and firing with the most instantaneous 
quickness. ]\Ianitou can be left anywhere at a 
moment's warning, while his rider leaps off, shoots 
at a deer from almost under his head, and perhaps 
chases the wounded animal a mile or over; and 
on his return the good old fellow will be grazing 



152 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

away, perfectly happy and contented, and not 
making a movement to nm ofE or evade being 
caught. 

One method of kilHng deer on horseback is very 
exciting. Many of the valleys or ravines extend 
with continual abrupt turns and windings for 
several miles, the brush and young trees stretching 
with constant breaks down the middle of the bot- 
tom, and leaving a space on each side along which 
a surefooted horse can gallop at speed. Two 
men, on swift, hardy horses, can hunt down such 
a ravine very successfully at evening, by each 
taking a side and galloping at a good speed the 
whole length against the wind. The patter of 
the unshod hoofs over the turf makes but little 
noise ; and the turns are so nimierous and abrupt, 
and the horses go so swiftly, that the hunters 
come on the deer almost before the latter are 
aware of their presence. If it is so late in the 
day that the deer have begun to move they will 
find the horses close up before they have a sus- 
picion of danger, while if they are still lying in the 
cover the suddenness of the appearance of their 
foe is apt to so startle them as to make them break 
out and show themselves instead of keeping hid, 
as they would probably do if they perceived the 
approach from afar. One thus gets a close nm- 
ning shot or if he waits a minute he will generally 
get a standing shot at some little distance, owing 



The Black-Tail Deer 153 

to a very characteristic habit of the black-tail. 
This is its custom of turning round, apparently- 
actuated simply by curiosity, to look at the object 
which startled it, after it has nin off a hundred 
and fifty yards or so. It then stands motionless 
for a few seconds, and offers a chance for a steady 
shot. If the chance is not improved, no other will 
offer, for as soon as the deer has ended its scrutiny 
it is off again, and this time will not halt till well 
out of danger. Owing to its singular gait, a suc- 
cession of buck jumps, the black-tail is a peculiarly 
difficult animal to hit while on the run ; and it is 
best to wait until it stops and turns before taking 
the shot, as, if fired at, the report will generally so 
alarm it as to make it continue its course without 
halting to look back. Some of the finest antlers 
in my possession come from bucks killed by this 
method of hunting ; and it is a most exhilarating 
form of sport, the horse galloping rapidly over 
what is often very broken ground, and the senses 
being continually on the alert for any sign of 
game. The rush and motion of the horse, and the 
care necessary to guide it and at the same time be 
in constant readiness for a shot, prevent the chase 
having any of the monotony that is at times in- 
separable from still-hunting proper. 

Nevertheless, it is by still-hunting that most 
deer are killed, and the highest form of hunting 
craft is shown in the science of the skilful still- 



154 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

hunter. With sufficient practice, any man who 
possesses common-sense, and is both hardy and 
persevering, can become, to a certain extent, a 
still-hunter. But the really good still-hunter is 
born rather than made ; though, of course, in addi- 
tion to possessing the gifts naturally, he must also 
have developed them, by constant practice, to 
the highest point possible. One of the foremen 
on my ranch is a really remarkably good hunter and 
game shot, and another does almost as well; but 
the rest of us are not, and never will be, anything 
very much out of the common. By dint of prac- 
tice, we have learned to shoot as well at game as at 
a target; and those of us who are fond of the 
sport, hunt continually, and so get a good deal of 
gam^e at one time or another. Hunting through 
good localities, up wind, quietly and persever- 
ingly, we come upon quite a number of animals; 
and we can kill a standing shot at a fair distance 
and a running shot close up, and by good luck 
every now and then kill far off; but to much 
more than is implied in the description of such 
modest feats we cannot pretend. 

After the disappearance of the buffalo and the 
thinning out of the elk, the black-tail was, and in 
most places it still is, the game most sought after 
by the himters; I have myself shot as many of 
them as of all other kinds of plains game put to- 
gether. But for this very reason it is fast disap- 



The Black-Tail Deer 155 

pearing ; and bids fair to be the next animal, after 
the buffalo and elk, to vanish from the places that 
formerly knew it. The big-horn and the prong- 
horn are more difficult to stalk and kill, partly 
from their greater natural wariness, and partly 
from the kind of ground on which they are found. 
But it seems at first sight strange that the black- 
tail should be exterminated or driven away so 
much more quickly than the white-tail, when it has 
sharper ears and nose, is more tenacious of life, 
and is more wary. The main reason is to be found 
in the difference in the character of the haunts 
of the two creatures. The black-tail is found 
.on much more open ground, where the animals 
can be seen farther off, where it is much easier to 
take advantage of the direction of the wind and 
to get along without noise, and where far more 
country can be traversed in a given time; and 
though the average length of the shots taken is in 
one case two or three times as great as in the 
other, yet this is more than counterbalanced by 
the fact that they are more often standing ones, 
and that there is usually much more time for aim- 
ing. Moreover, one kind of sport can be followed 
on horseback, while the other must be followed 
on foot ; and then the chase of the white-tail, 
in addition, is by far the more tedious and pa- 
tience-trying. And the black-tail are much the 
more easily scared or driven out of a locality by 



156 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

persecution or by the encroaching settlements. 
All these qualities combine to make it less able 
to hold its own against mankind than its smaller 
rival. It is the favorite game of the skin hunters 
and meat hunters, and has, in consequence, already 
disappeared from many places, while in others its 
extermination is going on at a frightfully rapid 
rate, owing to its being followed in season and 
out of season without mercy. Besides, the cattle 
are very fond of just the places to which it most 
often resorts ; and wherever cattle go the cowboys 
ride about after them, with their ready six- 
shooters at their hips. They blaze away at any 
deer they see, of course, and in addition to now 
and then killing or wounding one, continually 
harry and disturb the poor animals. In the more 
remote and inaccessible districts the black-tail 
will long hold its own, to be one of the animals 
whose successful pursuit will redound most to the 
glory of the still-hunter; but in a very few years 
it will have ceased entirely to be one of the com- 
mon game animals of the plains. 

Its great curiosity is one of the disadvantages 
imder which it labors in the fierce struggle for 
existence, compared to the white-tail. The latter, 
when startled, does not often stop to look round ; 
but, as already said, the former will generally do 
so after having gone a few hundred feet. The 
first black-tail I ever killed— unfortunately killed, 



The Black-Tail Deer i57 

for the body was not found until spoiled — was 
obtained owing solely to this peculiarity. I had 
been riding up along the side of a brushy coulie, 
when a fine buck started out some thirty yards 
ahead. Although so close, my first shot, a run- 
ning one, was a miss ; when a couple of hundred 
yards off, on the very crest of the spur up which 
he had run, he stopped and turned partially round. 
Firing again from a rest, the bullet broke his 
hind leg far up and went into his body. OK he 
went on three legs, and I after him as fast as the 
horse could gallop. He went over the spur and 
down into the valley of the creek from which the 
coulie branched up, in very bad ground. My pony 
was neither fast nor surefooted, but of course 
in half a mile overhauled the three-legged deer, 
which turned short off and over the side of the hill 
flanking the valley. Instead of running right up 
on it I foolishly dismoimted and began firing; 
after the first shot — a miss — it got behind a 
boulder hitherto unseen, and thence over the 
crest. The pony meanwhile had slipped its hind 
leg into the rein ; when, after some time, I got it 
out and galloped up to the ridge, the most careful 
scrutiny of which my -unpractised eyes were capable 
failed to discover a track on the dry ground, hard as 
granite. A day or two afterwards the place where 
the carcass lay was made known by the vultures, 
gathered together from all parts to feed upon it. 



158 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

When fired at from a place of hiding, deer 
which have not been accustomed to the report of 
a gun will often appear confused and uncertain 
what to do. On one occasion, while hunting in 
the mountains, I saw an old buck with remarkably 
large horns, of curious and beautiful shape, more 
symmetrical than in most instances where the 
normal form is departed from. The deer was 
feeding in a wide, gently sloping valley, con- 
taining no cover from behind which to approach 
him. We were in no need of meat, but the antlers 
were so fine that I felt they justified the death 
of their bearer. After a little patient waiting, 
the buck walked out of the valley, and over the 
ridge on the other side, moving up wind ; I raced 
after him, and crept up behind a thick growth of 
stiinted cedars, which had started up from among 
some boulders. The deer was about a hundred 
yards off, down in the valley. Out of breath, and 
over-confident, I fired hastily, overshooting him. 
The wind blew the smoke back away from the 
ridge, so that he saw nothing, while the echo 
prevented his placing the sound. He took a 
couple of jumps nearer, when he stood still and 
was again overshot. Again he took a few jumps, 
and the third shot went below him ; and the fourth 
just behind him. This was too much, and away 
he went. In despair, I knelt down (I had been 
firing off-hand), took a steady aim well forward on 



The Black-Tail Deer 159 

his body, and fired, bringing him down, but with 
small credit to the shot, for the bullet had gone 
into his hip, paralyzing his hind-quarters. The 
antlers are the finest pair I ever got, and form a 
magnificent ornament for the hall ; but the shoot- 
ing is hardly to be recalled with pleasure. Still, 
though certainly very bad, it was not quite as 
discreditable as the mere target shot would think. 
I have seen many a crack marksman at the target 
do quite as bad missing when out in the field, and 
that not once, but again and again. 

Of course, in those parts of the wilderness 
where the black-tail are entirely unused to man, 
they are as easy to approach (from the leeward 
side) as is any and every other kind of game under 
like conditions. In lonely spots, to which hunters 
rarely or never penetrate, deer of this species will 
stand and look at a hunter without offering to 
run away till he is within fifty yards of them, if 
he will advance quietly. In a far-off mountain 
forest I have more than once shot a young buck 
at less than that distance as he stood motionless, 
gazing at me, although but little caution had been 
used in approaching him. 

But a short experience of danger on the part 
of the black-tail changes all this; and where 
hunters are often afoot, he becomes as wild and 
wary as may be. Then the successful still-hunter 
shows that he is indeed well up in the highef 



i6o Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

forms of hunting craft. For the man who can, 
not once by accident, but again and again, as a 
regular thing, single handed, find and kill his black- 
tail, has shown that he is no mere novice in his 
art; still-hunting the black-tail is a sport that 
only the skilful can follow with good results, and 
one which implies in the successful sportsman the 
presence of most of the still-hunter's rarest attri- 
butes. All of the qualities which a still-hunter 
should possess are of service in the pursuit of any 
kind of game; but different ones will be called 
into especial play in hunting different kinds of 
animals. Thus, to be a successful hunter after 
anything, a man should be patient, resolute, 
hardy, and with good judgment ; he should have 
good lungs and stout muscles ; he should be able 
to move with noiseless stealth ; and he should be 
keen-eyed, and a first-rate marksman with the 
rifle. But in different kinds of shooting, the 
relative importance of these qualities varies 
greatly. In hunting white-tail deer, the two 
prime requisites are stealth and patience. If the 
quarry is a big-horn, a man needs especially to 
be sound in wind and limbs, and to be both hardy 
and resolute. Skill in the use of the long-range 
rifle counts for more in antelope hunting than 
in any other form of sport ; and it is in this kind 
of hunting alone that good marksmanship is more 
important than anything else. With dangerous 



The Black-Tail Deer i6i 

game, cool and steady nerves are of the first con- 
sequence; all else comes after. Then, again, in 
the use of the rifle, the kind of skill — not merely 
the degree of skill — required to himt different 
animals may vary greatly. In shooting white- 
tail, it is especially necessary to be a good snap- 
shot at running game ; when the distance is close, 
quickness is an essential. But at antelope there 
is plenty of time, and what is necessary is ability 
to judge distance, and capacity to hit a small 
stationary object at long range. 

The different degrees of estimation in which 
the chase of the various kinds of plains game is 
held depend less upon the difficulty of capture 
than upon the nature of the qualities in the hunter 
which each particular form of hunting calls into 
play. A man who is hardy, resolute, and a good 
shot, has come nearer to realizing the ideal of a 
bold and free hunter than is the case with one 
who is merely stealthy and patient; and so, 
though to kill a white-tail is rather more difficult 
than to kill a black-tail, yet the chase of the latter 
is certainly the nobler form of sport, for it calls 
into play, and either develops or implies the pre- 
sence of, much more manly qualities than does 
the other. Most hunters would find it nearly as 
difficult to watch in silence by a salt-lick through- 
out the night, and then to butcher with a shot- 
gun a white-tail, as it would be to walk on foot 



VOL. I. — II 



1 62 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

through rough ground from morning till evening, 
and to fairly approach and kill a black-tail; yet 
there is no comparison between the degree of 
credit to be attached to one feat and that to be 
attached to the other. Indeed, if difficulty in 
killing is to be taken as a criterion, a mink or even 
a weasel would have to stand as high up in the 
scale as a deer, were the animals equally plenty. 

Ranged in the order of the difficulty with 
which they are approached and slain, plains game 
stand as follows: big-horn, antelope, white-tail, 
black-tail, elk, and buffalo. But, as regards the 
amount of manly sport furnished by the chase of 
each, the white-tail should stand at the bottom 
of the list, and the elk and black-tail abreast of 
the antelope. 

Other things being equal, the length of an ani- 
mal's stay in the land, when the arch foe of all 
lower forms of animal life has made his appearance 
therein, depends upon the difficulty with which he 
is hunted and slain. But other influences have 
to be taken into account. The big-horn is shy 
and retiring; very few, compared to the whole 
number, will be killed ; and yet the others vanish 
completely. Apparently, they will not remain 
where they are hunted and disturbed. With 
antelope and white-tail this does not hold; they 
will cling to a place far more tenaciously, even 
if often harassed. The former being the more 



The Black-Tail Deer i6 



J 



conspicuous, and living in such open ground, is 
apt to be more persecuted; while the white-tail, 
longer than any other animal, keeps its place in 
the land in spite of the swinish game butchers, 
who hunt for hides and not for sport or actual 
food, and who murder the gravid doe and the 
spotted fawn with as little hesitation as they 
would kill a buck of ten points. No one who is 
not himself a sportsman and lover of nature can 
realize the intense indignation with which a true 
hunter sees these butchers at their brutal work 
of slaughtering the game, in season and out, for 
the sake of the few dollars they are too lazy to 
earn in any other and more honest way. 

All game animals rely upon both eyes, ears, 
and nose to warn them of the approach of danger ; 
but the amount of reliance placed on each sense 
varies greatly in different species. Those found 
out on the plains pay very little attention to what 
they hear; indeed, in the open they can hardly 
be approached near enough to make of much 
account any ordinary amount of noise caused by 
the stalker, especially as the latter is walking over 
little but grass and soft earth. The buffalo, 
whose shaggy frontlet of hair falls over his eyes 
and prevents his seeing at any great distance, 
depends mainly upon his exquisite sense of smell. 
The antelope, on the other hand, depends almost 
entirely on his great bulging eyes, and very little 



1 64 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

on his nose. His sight is many times as good as 
that of deer, both species of which, as well as elk, 
rely both upon sight and hearing, but most of all 
upon their sense of smell, for their safety. The 
big-horn has almost as keen eyesight as an ante- 
lope, while his ears and nose are as sensitive to 
sound and scent as are those of an elk. 

Black-tail, like other members of the deer 
family, do not pay much attention to an object 
which is not moving. A hunter who is standing 
motionless or squatting down is not likely to 
receive attention, while a big-horn or prong-horn 
would probably see him and take the alarm at 
once ; and if the black-tail is frightened and nm- 
ning he will run almost over a man standing in 
plain sight, without paying any heed to him, if 
the latter does not move. But the very slightest 
movement at once attracts a deer's attention, and 
deer are not subject to the panics that at times 
overtake other kinds of game. The black-tail 
has much curiosity, which often proves fatal to 
it ; but which with it is after all by no means the 
ungovernable passion that it is with the antelope. 
The white-tail and the big-horn are neither over- 
afflicted with morbid curiosity, nor subject to 
panics or fits of stupidity; and both these ani- 
mals, as well as the black-tail, seem to care very 
little for the death of the leader of the band, going 
their own ways with small regard for the fate of 



The Black-Tail Deer 165 

the chief, while elk will huddle together in a con- 
fused group, and remain almost motionless when 
their leader is struck down. Antelope, and more 
especially elk, are subject to perfect panics of un- 
reasoning terror, during which they will often put 
themselves completely in the power of the hunter ; 
while buffalo will frequently show a downright 
stupidity, almost unequalled. 

The black-tail suffers from no such peculiarities. 
His eyes are good; his nose and ears excellent. 
He is ever alert and wary ; his only failing is his 
occasional over-curiosity; and his pursuit taxes 
to the utmost the skill and resources of the still- 
hunter. 

By all means the best coverings for the feet 
when still-hunting are moccasins, as with them a 
man can go noiselessly through ground where hob- 
nailed boots would clatter like the hoofs of a horse ; 
but in hunting in winter over the icy buttes and 
cliffs it is best to have stout shoes, with nails in 
the soles, and if the main work is done on horse- 
back it is best to wear high boots, as they keep 
the trousers down. Indeed, in the Bad Lands 
boots have other advantages, for rattlesnakes 
abound, and against these they afford perfect 
protection — unless a man should happen to stum- 
ble on a snake while crawling along on all fours. 
But moccasins are beyond all comparison the 
best footgear for himting. In very cold weather a 



1 66 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

fur cap which can be pulled down over the ears 
is a necessity ; but at other times a brimmed felt 
hat offers better protection against both sun and 
rain. The clothes should be of some neutral tint 
— ^buckskin is on this account excellent — and very- 
strong. 

The still-hunter should be well acquainted with, 
at any rate, certain of the habits of his quarry. 
There are seasons when the black-tail is found 
in bands; such is apt to be the case when the 
rutting time is over. At this period, too, the 
deer wander far and wide, making what may 
almost be called a migration; and in rutting 
time the bucks follow the does at speed for miles 
at a stretch. But except at these seasons each 
individual black-tail has a certain limited tract of 
country to which he confines himself unless dis- 
turbed or driven away, not, of course, keeping in 
the same spot all the time, but working round 
among a particular set of ravines and coulies, 
where the feed is good, and where water can be 
obtained without going too far out of the imme- 
diate neighborhood. 

Throughout the plains country the black-tail 
lives in the broken ground, seldom coming down 
to the alluvial bottoms or out on the open prairies 
and plateaus. But he is found all through this 
broken ground. Sometimes it is rolling in charac- 
ter, with rounded hills and gentle valleys, dotted 



The Black-Tail Deer 167 

here and there with groves of trees; or the hills 
may rise into high chains, covered with an open 
pine forest, sending off long spurs and divided by 
deep valleys and basins. Such places are favorite 
resorts of this deer; but it is as plentiful in the 
Bad Lands proper. There are tracts of these 
which are in part or wholly of volcanic origin; 
then the hills are called scoria buttes. They are 
high and veiy steep, but with rounded tops and 
edges, and are covered, as is the ground round 
about, with scoriae boulders. Bushes, and some- 
times a few cedar, grow among them, and though 
they would seem to be most unlikely places for 
deer, yet black-tail are very fond of them, and 
are very apt to be found among them. Often in 
the cold fall mornings they will lie out among 
the boulders, on the steep side of such a scoria 
butte, sunning themselves, far from any cover 
except a growth of brushwood in the bottom of 
the dry creeks or coulies. The grass on top of 
and between these scoria buttes is often very 
nutritious, and cattle are also fond of it. The 
higher buttes are choice haunts of the mountain 
sheep. 

Nineteen twentieths of the Bad Lands, how- 
ever, owe their origin not to volcanic action 
but to erosion and to the peculiar weathering 
forces always at work in the dry climate of the 
plains. Geologically, the land is for the most part 



1 68 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

composed of a set of parallel, perfectly horizontal 
strata, of clay, marl, or sandstone, which, being 
of different degrees of hardness, offer some more 
and some less resistance to the action of the 
weather. The table-lands, peaks, cliffs, and jag- 
ged ridges are caused solely by the rains and tor- 
rents cutting away the land into channels, which 
at first are merely wash-outs, and at last grow into 
deep canyons, winding valleys, and narrow ravines 
or basins. The sides of these cuts are at first 
perpendicular, exposing to view the various bands 
of soil, perhaps of a dozen different colors; the 
hardest bands resist the action of the weather best 
and form narrow ledges stretching along the face 
of the cliff. Peaks of the most fantastic shape 
are formed in this manner; and where a ridge 
is worn away on each side its crest may be as 
sharp as a knife-blade, but all notched and jagged. 
The peaks and ridges vary in height from a few 
feet to several hundred; the sides of the buttes 
are generally worn down in places so as to be 
steeply sloping instead of perpendicular. The 
long wash-outs and the canyons and canyon-like 
valleys stretch and branch out in every direction ; 
the dryness of the atmosphere, the extremes of 
intense heat and bitter cold, and the occasional 
furious rain-storms keep the edges and angles 
sharp and jagged, and pile up boulders and masses 
of loose detritus at the foot of the cliffs and great 



The Black-Tail Deer 169 

lonely crags. Sometimes the valleys are quite 
broad, with steep sides and with numerous pock- 
ets, separated by spurs jutting out into the bot- 
tom from the lateral ridges. Other ravines or 
clefts taper down to a ditch, a foot or so wide, 
from which the banks rise at an angle of sixty 
degrees to the tops of the enclosing ridges. 

The faces of the terraced cliffs and sheer crags 
are bare of all but the scantiest vegetation, and 
where the Bad Lands are most rugged and broken 
the big-horn is the only game found. But in 
most places the tops of the buttes, the sides of 
the slopes, and the bottoms of the valleys are 
more or less thickly covered with the nutritious 
grass which is the favorite food of the black-tail. 

Of course, the Bad Lands grade all the way 
from those that are almost rolling in character to 
those that are so fantastically broken in form and 
so bizarre in color as to seem hardly properly to 
belong to this earth. If the weathering forces 
have not been very active, the ground will look, 
from a little distance, almost like a level plain, 
but on approaching nearer, it will be seen to be 
crossed by straight-sided gullies and canyons, 
miles in length, cutting across the land in every 
direction and rendering it almost impassable for 
horsemen or wagon-teams. If the forces at work 
have been more intense, the walls between the 
different gullies have been cut down to thin edges, 



lyo Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

or broken through, leaving isolated peaks of 
strange shape, while the hollows have been chan- 
nelled out deeper and deeper; such places show 
the extreme and most characteristic Bad Lands 
formation. When the weathering has gone on 
farther, the angles are rounded off, grass begins to 
grow, bushes and patches of small trees sprout 
up, water is found in places, and the still very 
rugged country becomes the favorite abode of the 
black-tail. 

During the daytime, these deer lie quietly in 
their beds, which are sometimes in the brush and 
among the matted bushes in the bottoms of the 
small branching coulies, or heads of the crooked 
ravines. More often they will be found in the 
thickets of stunted cedars clothing the brinks of 
the canyons or the precipitous slopes of the great 
chasms into which the ground is cleft and rent ; or 
else among the groves of gnarled pines on the 
sides of the buttes, and in the basins and pockets 
between the spurs. If the country is not much 
hunted over, a buck or old doe will often take 
its mid-day rest out in the open, lying down among 
the long grass or shrubbery on one of the bare 
benches at the head of a ravine, at the edge of 
the dense brush with which its bottom and sides 
are covered. In such a case, a position is al- 
ways chosen from which a lookout can be kept all 
around; and the moment any suspicious object is 



I 



The Black-Tail Deer 171 

seen, the deer slips off into the thicket below him. 
Perhaps the favorite resting-places are the rounded 
edges of the gorges, just before the sides of the 
latter break sheer off. Here the deer lies, usually 
among a few straggling pines or cedars, on the 
very edge of the straight side-wall of the canyon, 
with a steep-shelving slope above him, so that 
he cannot be seen from the summit ; and in such 
places it is next to impossible to get at him. If 
lying on a cedar-grown spur or ridge-point, the 
still-hunter has a better chance, for the evergreen 
needles with which the ground is covered enable 
a man to walk noiselessly, and, by stooping or going 
on all fours, he can keep under the branches. But 
it is at all times hard and unsatisfactory work to 
find and successfully still-hunt a deer that is en- 
joying its day rest. Generally, the only result is 
to find the warm, fresh bed from which the deer has 
just sneaked off, the blades of grass still slowly 
rising, after the hasty departure of the weight 
that has flattened them down ; or else, if in dense 
cover, the hunter suddenly hears a scramble, a 
couple of crashing bounds through the twigs and 
dead limbs, and gets a momentary glimpse of a 
dark outline vanishing into the thicket as the 
sole reward of his labor. Almost the only way 
to successfully still-hunt a deer in the middle of 
the day, is to find its trail and follow it up 
to the resting-places, and such a feat needs an 



172 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

expert tracker and a noiseless and most skilful 
stalker. 

The black-tail prefers to live in the neighbor- 
hood of water, where he can get it every twenty- 
four hours; but he is perfectly willing to drink 
only every other day, if, as is often the case, he 
happens to be in a very dry locality. Nor does 
he stay long in the water or near it, like the white- 
tail, but moves off as soon as he is no longer 
thirsty. On moonlight nights he feeds a good 
deal of the time, and before dawn he is always on 
foot for his breakfast; the hours around day- 
break are those in which most of his grazing is 
done. By the time the sun has been up an hour 
he is on his way homeward, grazing as he goes; 
and he will often stay for som^e little time longer, 
if there has been no disturbance from man or 
other foes, feeding among the scattered scrub 
cedars skirting the thicket in which he intends 
to make his bed for the day. Having once made 
his bed he crouches very close in it, and is diffi- 
cult to put up during the heat of the day; but 
as the afternoon wears on he becomes more rest- 
less, and will break from his bed and bound off 
at much smaller provocation, while if the place is 
lonely he will wander out into the open hours be- 
fore sunset. If, however, he is in much danger of 
being molested, he will keep close to his hiding- 
place until nearly nightfall, when he ventures 



The Black-Tail Deer i73 

out to feed. Owing to the lateness of his evening 
appearance in locaHties where there is much hunt- 
ing, it is a safer plan to follow him in the early 
morning, being on the ground and ready to start 
out by the time the first streak of dawn appears. 
Often have I lost deer when riding home in the 
evening, because the dusk had deepened so that 
it was impossible to distinguish clearly enough to 
shoot. 

One day one of my cowboys and myself were re- 
turning from an unsuccessful hunt, about night- 
fall, and were still several miles from the river, 
when a couple of yearling black- tails jumped up 
in the bed of the dry creek down which we were 
riding. Our horses, though stout and swift, were 
not well trained; and the instant w^e were o£E 
their backs they trotted off. No sooner were we 
on the ground and trying to sight the deer, one of 
which was cantering slowly off among the bushes, 
than we found we could not catch the bead sights 
of our rifles, the outlines of the animals seeming 
vague, and shadowy, and confounding themselves 
with the banks and dull green sage bushes behind 
them. Certainly, six or eight shots were fired, we 
doing our best to aim, but without any effect ; and 
when we gave it up and turned to look for our 
horses we were annoyed to see the latter trotting 
off down the valley half a mile a\yay. We went 
after at a round pace; but darkness closed in 



174 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

before we had gained at all on them. There was 
nothing left to do but to walk on down the valley 
to the bottoms, and then to wade the river; as 
the latter was quite high, we had to take off our 
clothes, and it is very uncomfortable to feel one's 
way across a river at night, in bare feet, with the 
gun and the bundle of clothes held high overhead. 
However, when across the river and half a mile 
from home, we ran into our horses — a piece of 
good luck, as otherwise we should have had to 
spend the next day in looking for them. 

Almost the only way in which it is possible to 
aim after dark is to get the object against the 
horizon, toward the light. One of the finest bucks 
I ever killed was shot in this way. It was some 
little time after the sun had set, and I was hurry- 
ing home, riding down along a winding creek at a 
gallop. The middle of the bottom was covered 
with brush, while the steep, grassy, rounded hills 
on each side sent off spurs into the valley, the 
part between every two spurs making a deep 
pocket. The horse's feet were unshod and he 
made very little noise, coming down against the 
wind. While passing a deep pocket I heard 
from within it a snort and stamping of feet, the 
well-known sounds made by a startled deer. Pull- 
ing up short I jumped off the horse, — it was Mani- 
tou, — who instantly began feeding with perfect 
indifference to what he probably regarded as an 



The Black-Tail Deer i75 

irrational freak of his master; and, aiming as 
well as I could in the gathering dusk, held the rifle 
well ahead of a shadowy gray object which was 
scudding along the base of the hill towards the 
mouth of the pocket. The ball struck in front of 
and turned the deer, which then started obliquely 
up the hill. A second shot missed it ; and I then 
(here comes in the good of having a repeater) 
knelt down and pointed the rifle against the sky 
line, at the place where the deer seemed likely to 
top the bluff. Immediately afterwards the buck 
appeared, making the last jump with a great 
effort which landed him square on the edge, as 
sharply outlined as a silhouette against the fading 
western light. My rifle bead was just above him ; 
pulling it down I fired, as the buck paused for a 
second to recover himself from his last great 
bound, and with a crash the mighty antlered beast 
came rolling down the hill, the bullet having 
broken his back behind the shoulders, afterwards 
going out through his chest. 

At times a little caution must be used in ap- 
proaching a wounded buck, for if it is not disabled 
it may be a rather formidable antagonist. In my 
own experience I have never known a wounded 
buck to do more than make a pass with his horns, 
or, in plunging when the knife enters his throat, 
to strike with his forefeet. But one of my men 
was regularly charged by a great buck, which he 



176 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

had wounded, and which was brought to bay on 
the ice by a dog. It seemed to reaUze that the 
dog was not the main antagonist, and knocking 
him over charged straight past him at the man, 
and as the latter had in his haste not reloaded his 
rifle, he might have been seriously injured had it 
not been for the dog, a very strong and plucky 
one, which caught the buck by the hock and threw 
him. The buck got up and again came straight 
at his foe, uttering a kind of grunting bleat, and it 
was not till after quite a scuffle that the man, by 
the help of the dog, got him down and thrust the 
knife in his throat. Twice I have known hounds 
to be killed by bucks which they had brought to 
bay in the rutting season. One of these bucks 
was a savage old fellow with great thick neck and 
sharp-pointed antlers. He came to bay in a 
stream, under a bank thickly matted with willows 
which grew down into the water, guarding his 
rear and flanks, while there was a small pool in 
his front across which the hounds had to swim. 
Backing in among the willows he rushed out at 
every dog that came near, striking it under water 
with his forefeet, and then again retreating to 
his fortress. In this way he kept the whole pack 
off, and so injured one hound that he had to be 
killed. Indeed, a full-grown buck with antlers 
would be a match for a wolf, unless surprised, and 
could not improbably beat off a cougar if he 



The Black-Tail Deer i77 

received the latter's spring fairly on his prong 
points. 

Bucks fight fiercely among themselves during 
the rutting season. At that time the black-tail, 
unlike the white-tail, is found in bands, somewhat 
like those of the elk, but much smaller, and the 
bucks of each band keep up an incessant warfare. 
A weak buck promptly gets out of the way if 
charged by a large one; but when two of equal 
strength come together the battle is well fought. 
Instances occasionally occur, of a pair of these 
duellists getting their horns firmly interlocked 
and thus perishing ; but these instances are much 
rarer, owing to the shape of the antlers, than 
with the white-tail, of which species I have in 
my own experience come across two or three sets 
of skulls held together by their interlacing ant- 
lers, the bearers of which had doubtless died owing 
to their inability to break away from each other. 

A black-tail buck is one of the most noble- 
looking of all deer. His branching and sym- 
metrically curved antlers are set on a small head, 
carried with beautiful pose by the proud, massive 
neck. The body seems almost too heavy for the 
slender legs, and yet the latter bear it as if they 
were rods of springing steel. Every movement 
is full of alert, fiery life and grace, and he steps as 
lightly as though he hardly trod the earth. The 
large, sensitive ears are thrown forward to catch 

VOL. I. — 12 



1 78 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the slightest sound ; and in the buck they are not 
too conspicuous, though they are the only parts 
of his frame which to any eye can be said to take 
away from his beauty. They give the doe a 
somewhat mulish look; at a distance, the head 
of a doe peering out from among twigs looks like 
a great black V. To me, however, even in the 
case of the doe, they seem to set off and strengthen 
by contrast the delicate, finely -moulded look of 
the head. Owing to these ears the species is called 
in the books the Mule Deer, and every now and 
then a plainsman will speak of it by this title. 
But all plainsmen know it generally, and ninety- 
nine out of a hundred know it only, as the Black- 
tail Deer; and as this is the title by which it is 
known among all who hunt it or live near it, it 
should certainly be called by the same name in 
the books. 

But though so grand and striking an object 
when startled, or when excited, whether by curi- 
osity or fear, love or hate, a black-tail is never- 
theless often very hard to make out when standing 
motionless among the trees and brushwood, or 
when lying down among the boulders. A raw 
hand at hunting has no idea how hard it is to see 
a deer when at rest. The color of the hair is gray, 
almost the same tint as that of the leafless branches 
and tree trunks ; for of course the hunting season 
is at its height only when the leaves have fallen. 



The Black-Tail Deer 179 

A deer standing motionless looks black or gray, 
according as the sunlight strikes it; but always 
looks exactly the same color as the trees around 
it. It generally stands or lies near some tree 
trunks; and the eye may pass over it once or 
twice without recognizing its real nature. In the 
brush it is still more difficult, and there a deer's 
form is often absolutely indistinguishable from 
the surroundings, as one peers through the mass 
of interlacing limbs and twigs. Once an old 
hunter and myself in walking along the ridge of a 
scoria butte passed by, without seeing them, three 
black-tail lying among the scattered boulders of 
volcanic rock on the hillside, not fifty yards from 
us. After a little practical experience a would-be 
hunter learns not to expect deer always, or even 
generally, to appear as they do when near by or 
suddenly startled; but on the contrary to keep 
a sharp lookout on every dull-looking red or 
yellow patch he sees in a thicket, and to closely 
examine any grayish-looking object observed on 
the hillsides, for it is just such small patches or 
obscure-looking objects which are apt, if incau- 
tiously approached, to suddenly take to them- 
selves legs, and go bounding off at a rate which 
takes them out of danger before the astonished 
tyro has really waked up to the fact that they are 
deer. The first lesson to be learned in still-hunt- 
ing is the knowledge of how to tell what objects 



i8o Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

are and what are not deer; and to learn it is by 
no means as easy a task as those who have never 
tried it would think. 

When he has learned to see a deer, the novice 
then has to learn to hit it, and this again is not 
the easy feat it seems. That he can do well with 
a shot-gun proves very little as to a man's skill 
with the rifle, for the latter carries but one bullet, 
and can therefore hit but in one place, while with 
a shot-gun, if you hold a foot off your mark you 
will be nearly as apt to hit as if you held plumb 
centre. Nor does mere practice at a mark avail, 
though excellent in its way ; for a deer is never seen 
at a fixed and ascertained distance, nor is its out- 
line often clearly and sharply defined, as with a 
target. Even if a man keeps cool— and for the 
first shot or two he will probably be flurried — 
he may miss an absurdly easy shot by not taking 
pains. I remember on one occasion missing two 
shots in succession where it seemed really impossi- 
ble for a man to help hitting. I was out hunting 
on horseback with one of my men, and on loping 
rotmd the corner of a brushy valley came sud- 
denly in sight of a buck with certainly more than 
a dozen points on his great spreading antlers. 
I jumped off my horse instantly, and fired as he 
stood facing me not over forty yards off; fired, 
as I supposed perfectly, coolly, though without 
dropping on my knee as I should have done. The 



The Black-Tail Deer i8i 

shot must have gone high, for the buck bounded 
away unharmed, heedless of a second ball; and 
immediately his place was taken by another, some- 
what smaller, who sprang out of a thicket into 
almost the identical place where the big buck had 
stood. Again I fired and missed ; again the buck 
ran off, and was shot at and missed while run- 
ning — all four shots being taken within fifty yards. 
I clambered on to the horse without looking at my 
companion, but too conscious of his smothered 
disfavor; after riding a few hundred yards, he 
said with forced politeness and a vague desire to 
offer some cheap consolation, that he supposed I 
had done my best; to which I responded with 
asperity that I 'd be damned if I had; and we fin- 
ished our journey homeward in silence. A man is 
likely to overshoot at any distance ; but at from 
twenty-five to seventy-five yards he is certain 
to do so if he is at all careless. 

Moreover, besides not missing, a man must learn 
to hit his deer in the right place ; the first two 
or three times he shoots he will probably see the 
whole deer in the rifle sights, instead of just the 
particular spot he wishes to strike ; that is, he will 
aim in a general way at the deer's whole body — 
which will probably result in a wound not disa- 
bling the animal in the least for the time, although 
ensuring its finally dying a lingering and painful 
death. The most instantaneously fatal places are 



1 82 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the brain and any part of the spinal column ; but 
these offer such small marks that it is usually only 
by accident they are hit. The mark at any part 
of which one can fire with safety is a patch about 
eight inches or a foot square, including the shoul- 
der-blades, lungs, and heart. A kidney-shot is 
very fatal ; but a black-tail will go all day with a 
bullet through his entrails, and in cold weather 
I have known one to run several miles with a por- 
tion of his entrails sticking out of a wound and 
frozen solid. To break both shoulders by a shot 
as the deer stands sideways to the hunter, brings 
the buck down in its tracks ; but perhaps the best 
place at which to aim is the point in the body 
right behind the shoulder-blade. On receiving a 
bullet in this spot the deer will plunge forward 
for a jump or two, and then go some fifty yards in 
a labored gallop ; will then stop, sway unsteadily 
on its legs for a second, and pitch forward on its 
side. When the hunter comes up he will find his 
quarry stone dead. If the deer stands facing the 
hunter it offers only a narrow mark, but either a 
throat or chest shot will be fatal. 

Good shooting is especially necessary after 
black tail, because it is so very tenacious of life; 
much more so than the white-tail, or, in proportion 
to its bulk, than the elk. For this reason it is of 
the utmost importance to give an immediately 
fatal or disabling wound, or the game will almost 



The Black-Tail Deer 183 

certainly be lost. It is wonderful to see how far 
and how fast a seemingly crippled deer will go. 
Of course, a properly trained dog would be of 
the greatest use in tracking and bringing to bay 
wounded black-tail; but, unless properly trained 
to come in to heel, a dog is worse than useless; 
and, anyhow, it will be hard to keep one, as long 
as the wolf -hunters strew the ground so plentifully 
with poisoned bait. We have had several hunting 
dogs on our ranch at different times; generally 
wire-haired deer-hounds, fox-hounds, or grey- 
hounds, by no means absolutely pure in blood; 
but they all, sooner or later, succumbed to the 
effects of eating poisoned meat. Some of them 
were quite good hunting dogs, the rough deer- 
hoimds being perhaps the best at following and 
tackling a wounded buck. They were all very 
eager for the sport, and when in the morning we 
started out on a hunt the dogs were apparently 
more interested than the men ; but their judgment 
did not equal their zeal, and lack of training made 
them on the whole more bother than advantage. 

But much more than good shooting is neces- 
sary before a man can be called a good hunter. In- 
dians, for example, get a good deal of game, but 
they are in most cases very bad shots. Once, 
while going up the Clear Fork of the Powder, in 
Northern Wyoming, one of my men, an excellent 
hunter, and myself rode into a large camp of 



1 84 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

Cheyennes ; and after a while started a shooting- 
match with some of them. We had several trials 
of skill with the rifle, and, a good deal to my aston- 
ishment, I found that most of the Indians (quite 
successful hunters, to judge by the quantity of 
smoked venison lying round) were very bad shots, 
indeed. None of them came anywhere near the 
hunter who was with me ; nor, indeed, to myself. 
An Indian gets his game by his patience, his 
stealth, and his tireless perseverance ; and a white, 
to be really successful in still-hunting, must learn 
to copy some of the Indian's traits. 

While the game butchers, the skin hunters, and 
their like, work such brutal slaughter among the 
plains animals that these will soon be either totally 
extinct or so thinned out as to cease being promi- 
nent features of plains life, yet, on the other hand, 
the nature of the country debars them from fol- 
lowing certain murderous and unsportsmanlike 
forms of hunting much in vogue in other quarters 
of our land. There is no deep water into which 
a deer can be driven by hounds, and then shot 
at arm's-length from a boat, as is the fashion with 
some of the city sportsmen who infest the Adiron- 
dack forests during the hunting season; nor is 
the winter snow ever deep enough to form a crust 
over which a man can go on snow-shoes, and after 
running down a deer, which plunges as if in a 
quagmire, knock the poor, worn-out brute on the 



The Black-Tail Deer 185 

head with an axe. Fire-hunting is never tried 
in the cattle country ; it would be far more likely 
to result in the death of a steer or pony than in 
the death of a deer, if attempted on foot with a 
torch, as is done in some of the Southern States, 
while the streams are not suited to the floating or 
jacking with a lantern in the bow of the canoe, as 
practised in the Adirondacks. Floating and fire- 
hunting, though by no means to be classed among 
the nobler kinds of sport, yet have a certain fas- 
cination of their own, not so much for the sake 
of the actual hunting, as for the novelty of being 
out in the wilderness at night ; and the noiseless- 
ness absolutely necessary to insure success often 
enables the sportsman to catch curious ghmpses 
of the night life of the different kinds of wild 
animals. 

If it were not for the wolf poison, the plains 
country would be peculiarly fitted for hunting 
with hounds; and, if properly carried on, there 
is no manlier form of sport. It does not imply 
in the man who follows it the skill that distin- 
guishes the successful still-hunter, but it has a 
dash and excitement all its own, if the hunter 
follows the hounds on horseback. But, as carried 
on in the Adirondacks and in the Eastern and 
Southern mountains generally, hounding deer is 
not worthy of much regard. There the hunter is 
stationed at a runaway over which deer will 



1 86 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

probably pass, and has nothing to do but sit still 
for a number of weary hours and perhaps put a 
charge of buckshot into a deer running by but a 
few yards off. If a rifle instead of a shot-gun is 
used, a certain amount of skill is necessary, for 
then it is hard to hit a deer running, no matter 
how close up; but even with this weapon all the 
sportsman has to do is to shoot well ; he need not 
show knowledge of a single detail of hunting craft, 
nor need he have any trait of mind or body such 
as he must possess to follow most other kinds of 
the chase. 

Deer-hunting on horseback is something widely 
different. Even if the hunters carry rifles and 
themselves kill the deer, using the dogs merely to 
drive it out of the brush, they must be bold and 
skilful horsemen, and must show good judgment 
in riding to cut off the quarry, so as to be able to 
get a shot at it. This is the common American 
method of hunting the deer in those places where 
it is followed with horse and hound; but it is 
also coursed with greyhounds in certain spots 
where the lay of the land permits this form of 
sport, and in many districts, even where ordinary 
hounds are used, the riders go unarmed and 
merely follow the pack till the deer is bayed and 
pulled down. All kinds of hunting on horseback 
— and most hunting on horseback is done with 
hounds — tend to bring out the best and manliest 



The Black-Tail Deer 187 

qualities in the men who follow them, and they 
should be encouraged in every way. Long after 
the rifleman, as well as the game he hunts, shall 
have vanished from the plains, the cattle country 
will afford fine sport in coursing hares ; and both 
wolves and deer could be followed and killed with 
packs of properly-trained hounds, and such sport 
would be even more exciting than still-hunting 
with the rifle. It is on the great plains lying west 
of the Missouri that riding to hounds will in the 
end receive its fullest development as a national 
pastime. 

But at present, for the reasons already stated, 
it is almost unknown in the cattle country; and 
the ranchman who loves sport must try still- 
hunting — and by still-hunting is meant pretty 
much every kind of chase where a single man, 
unaided by a dog, and almost always on foot, 
outgenerals a deer and kills it with the rifle. To 
do this successfully, unless deer are very plenty 
and tame, implies a certain knowledge of the 
country, and a good knowledge of the habits of 
the game. The hunter must keep a sharp look- 
out for deer sign; for, though a man soon gets 
to have a general knowledge of the kind of places 
in which deer are likely to be, yet he will also 
find that they are either very capricious, or else 
that no man has more than a partial understand- 
ing of their tastes and likings ; for many spots 



i88 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

apparently just suited to them will be almost 
uninhabited, while in others they will be found 
where it would hardly occur to any one to suspect 
their presence. Any cause may temporarily drive 
deer out of a given locality. Still-hunting, espe- 
cially, is sure to send many away, while render- 
ing the others extremely wild and shy, and where 
deer have become used to being pursued in only 
one way, it is often an excellent plan to try 
some entirely different method. 

A certain knowledge of how to track deer is 
very useful. To become a really skilful tracker 
is most difficult; and there are some kinds of 
ground — where, for instance, it is very hard and 
dry, or frozen solid — on which almost any man 
will be at fault. But any one with a little prac- 
tice can learn to do a certain amount of tracking. 
On snow, of course, it is very easy; but on the 
other hand it is also peculiarly difficult to avoid 
being seen by the deer when the ground is white. 
After deer have been frightened once or twice, 
or have even merely been disturbed by man, 
they get the habit of keeping a watch back on 
their trail; and when snow has fallen, a man is 
such a conspicuous object deer see him a long 
way off, and even the tamest become wild. A 
deer will often, before lying down, take a half 
circle back to one side and make its bed a few 
yards from its trail, where it can, itself unseen. 



The Black-Tail Deer 189 

watch any person tracing it up. A man tracking 
in snow needs to pay very little heed to the foot- 
prints, which can be followed without effort, but 
requires to keep up the closest scrutiny over the 
ground ahead of him, and on either side of the 
trail. 

In the early morning when there is a heavy 
dew the footprints will be as plain as possible in 
the grass, and can then be followed readily; and 
in any place where the ground is at all damp 
they will usually be plain enough to be made out 
without difficulty. When the ground is hard or 
dry the work is very much less easy, and soon 
becomes so difficult as not to be worth while fol- 
lowing up. Indeed, at all times, even in the 
snow, tracks are chiefly of use to show the proba- 
ble locality in which a deer may be found; and 
the still-hunter, instead of laboriously walking 
along a trail will do far better to merely follow 
it until, from its freshness and direction, he feels 
confident that the deer is in some particular space 
of ground, and then hunt through it, guiding 
himself by his knowledge of the deer's habits and 
by the character of the land. Tracks are of most 
use in showing whether deer are plenty or scarce, 
whether they have been in the place recently or 
not. Generally, signs of deer are infinitely more 
plentiful than the animals themselves — although 
in regions where tracking is especially difficult 



190 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

deer are often jumped without any sign having 
been seen at all. Usually, however, the rule is 
the reverse, and as deer are likely to make any 
quantity of tracks the beginner is apt, judging 
purely from the sign, greatly to overestimate 
their number. Another mistake of the beginner 
is to look for the deer during the daytime in the 
places where their tracks were made in the morn- 
ing, when their day beds will probably be a long 
distance off. In the night-time deer will lie down 
almost anywhere, but during the day they go 
some distance from their feeding- or watering- 
places, as already explained. 

If deer are at all plenty — and if scarce only a 
master in the art can succeed at still-hunting — 
it is best not to try to follow the tracks at all, but 
merely to hunt carefully through any ground 
which from its looks seems likely to contain the 
animals. Of course, the hunting must be done 
either against or across the wind, and the greatest 
care must be taken to avoid making a noise. 
Moccasins should be worn, and not a twig should 
be trodden on, nor should the dress be allowed 
to catch in a brush. Especial caution should be 
used in going over a ridge or crest ; no man should 
ever let his whole body appear at once, but should 
first carefully peep over, not letting his rifle barrel 
come into view, and closely inspect every place 
in sight in which a deer could possibly stand or 



The Black-Tail Deer 191 

lie, always remembering that a deer is, when still, 
a most difficult animal to see, and that it will be 
completely hidden in cover which would appa- 
rently hardly hold a rabbit. The rifle should be 
carried habitually so that the sun will not glance 
upon it. Advantage must be taken, in walking, 
of all cover, so that the hunter will not be a con- 
spicuous object at any distance. The heads of a 
series of brushy ravines should always be crossed ; 
and a narrow, winding valley, with patches of 
bushes and young trees down through the middle, 
is always a likely place. Caution should never 
for a moment be forgotten, especially in the morn- 
ing or evening, the times when a hunter will get 
nine tenths of his shots ; for it is just then, when 
moving and feeding, that deer are most watchful. 
One will never browse for more than a minute or 
two without raising its head and peering about 
for any possible foe, the great, sensitive ears 
thrown forward to catch the slightest sound. 
But while using such caution it is also well to re- 
member that as much ground should be crossed 
as possible ; other things being equal, the number 
of shots obtained will correspond to the amount 
of country covered. And of course a man should 
be on the hunting-ground — not starting for the 
hunting- groimd — by the time there is enough light 
by which to shoot. 

Deer are in season for hunting from August first 



192 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

to January first. August is really too early to get 
full enjoyment out of the sport. The bucks, 
though fat and good eating, are still in the 
velvet; and neither does nor fawns should be 
killed, as many of the latter are in the spotted 
coat. Besides, it is very hot in the middle of the 
day, though pleasant walking in the early morning 
and late evening, and with cool nights. December 
is apt to be too cold, although with many fine 
days. The true time for the chase of the black- 
tail is in the three fall months. Then the air 
is fresh and bracing, and a man feels as if he 
could walk or ride all day long without tiring. In 
the bright fall weather the coimtry no longer 
keeps its ordinary look of parched desolation, and 
the landscape loses its sameness at the touch of 
the frost. Where everything before had been 
gray or dull green there are now patches of rus- 
set red and bright yellow. The clumps of ash, 
wild plum-trees, and rose-bushes in the heads 
and bottoms of the sloping valleys become spots 
of color that glow among the stretches of brown 
and withered grass; the young cottonwoods, 
growing on the points of land round which flow 
the rivers and streams, change to a delicate green 
or yellow, on which the eye rests with pleasure 
after having so long seen only the dull drab of 
the prairies. Often there will be days of bitter 
cold, when a man who sleeps out in the open feels 



The Black-Tail Deer 193 

the need of warm furs ; but still more often there 
will be days and days of sunny weather, not cold 
enough to bring discomfort, but yet so cold that 
the blood leaps briskly through a man's veins and 
makes him feel that to be out and walking over 
the hills is a pleasure in itself, even were he not 
in hopes of any moment seeing the sun glint on 
the horns and hide of some mighty buck, as it rises 
to face the intruder. On days such as these, mere 
life is enjo3^ment ; and on days such as these, the 
life of a hunter is at its pleasantest and best. 

Many black-tail are sometimes killed in a day. 
I have never made big bags myself, for I rarely 
hunt except for a fine head or when we need meat, 
and, if it can be avoided, do not shoot at fawns 
or does ; so the greatest number I have ever killed 
in a day was three. This was late one November, 
on an occasion when our larder was running low. 
My foreman and I, upon discovering this fact, 
determined to make a trip next day back in the 
broken country, away from the river, where black- 
tail were almost sure to be found. 

We breakfasted hours before sunrise, and then 
mounted our horses and rode up the river bottom. 
The bright prairie moon was at the full, and was 
sunk in the west till it hung like a globe of white 
fire over the long row of jagged bluffs that rose 
from across the river, while its beams brought 
into fantastic relief the peaks and crests of the 

VOL. I.— 13 



i 



194 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

buttes upon our left. The valley of the river 
itself was in partial darkness, and the stiff, twisted 
branches of the sage-brush seemed to take on un- 
canny shapes as they stood in the hollows. The 
cold was stinging, and we let our willing horses 
gallop with loose reins, their hoofs ringing on the 
frozen ground. After going up a mile or two 
along the course of the river we turned off to follow 
the bed of a large dry creek. At its mouth was a 
great space of ground much cut up by the hoofs 
of the cattle, which was in summer overflowed 
and almost a morass; but now the frost-bound 
earth was like wrinkled iron beneath the horses' 
feet. Behind us the westering moon sank down 
out of sight; and with no light but that of the 
stars, we let our horses tread their own way up 
the creek bottom. When we had gone a couple of 
miles from the river the sky in front of our faces 
took on a faint grayish tinge, the forerunner of 
dawn. Every now and then we passed by bunches 
of cattle, lying down or standing huddled together 
in the patches of brush or under the lee of some | 
shelving bank or other wind-break; and as the 
eastern heavens grew brighter, a dark form sud- 
denly appeared against the sky-line, on the crest 
of a bluff directly ahead of us. Another and an- 
other came up beside it. A glance told us that 
it was a troop of ponies, which stood motionless, 
like so many silhouettes, their outstretched necks 



I 



The Black-Tail Deer 195 

and long tails vividly outlined against the light 
behind them. All in the valley was yet dark when 
we reached the place where the creek began to 
split up and branch out into the various arms 
and ravines from which it headed. We galloped 
smartly over the divide into a set of coulies and 
valleys which ran into a different creek, and 
selected a grassy place where there was good feed 
to leave the horses. My companion picketed his ; 
Manitou needed no picketing. 

The tops of the hills were growing rosy, but 
the sun was not yet above the horizon when we 
started off, with our rifles on our shoulders, walk- 
ing in cautious silence, for we were in good ground 
and might at any moment see a deer. Above us 
was a plateau of some size, breaking off sharply 
at the rim into a sun'ounding stretch of very 
rough and rugged country. It sent off low spurs 
with notched crests into the valleys round about, 
and its edges were indented with steep ravines 
and half-circular basins, their sides covered with 
clusters of gnarled and wind-beaten cedars, often 
gathered into groves of some size. The ground 
was so broken as to give excellent cover under 
which a man could approach game unseen ; there 
were plenty of fresh signs of deer; and we were 
confident we should soon get a shot. Keeping at 
the bottom of the gullies, so as to be ourselves in- 
conspicuous, we walked noiselessly on, cautiously 



196 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

examining every pocket or turn before we rounded 
the corner, and looking with special care along the 
edges of the patches of brush. 

At last, just as the sun had risen, we came out 
by the mouth of a deep ravine or hollow, cut in 
the flank of the plateau, with steep, cedar-clad 
sides ; and on the crest of a jutting spur, not more 
.than thirty yards from where I stood, was a black- 
tail doe, half facing me. I was in the shadow, 
and for a moment she could not make me out, 
and stood motionless with her head turned toward 
me and her great ears thrown forward. Dropping 
on my knee, I held the rifle a little back of her 
shoulder — too far back, as it proved, as she stood 
quartering and not broadside to me. No fairer 
chance could ever fall to the lot of a hunter ; but, 
to my intense chagrin, she boimded off at the 
report as if unhurt, disappeariag instantly. My 
companion had now come up, and we ran up a 
rise of ground, and crouched down beside a great 
block of sandstone, in a position from which we 
overlooked the whole ravine or hollow. After 
some minutes of quiet watchfulness, we heard a 
twig snap — the air was so still we could hear any- 
thing — some rods up the ravine, but below us; 
and immediately afterward a buck stole out of 
the cedars. Both of us fired at once, and with a 
convulsive spring he rolled over backward, one 
bullet having gone through his neck, and the 



The Black-Tail Deer 197 

other — probably mine — having broken a hind leg. 
Immediately afterward, another buck broke from 
the upper edge of the cover, near the top of the 
plateau, and, though I took a hurried shot at him, 
boimded over the crest, and was lost to sight. 

We now determined to go down into the ravine 
and look for the doe, and as there was a good deal 
of snow in the bottom and under the trees, we 
knew we could soon tell if she were wounded. 
After a little search we found her track, and 
walking along it a few yards, came upon some 
drops and then a splash of blood. There being 
no need to hurry, we first dressed the dead buck 
— a fine, fat fellow, but with small misshapen 
horns — and then took up the trail of the wounded 
doe. Here, however, I again committed an error, 
and paid too much heed to the trail and too little 
to the country round about ; and, while following 
it with my eyes down on the groimd in a place 
where it was faint, the doe got up some distance 
ahead and to one side of me, and bounded off 
rotmd a comer of the ravine. The bed where she 
had lain was not very bloody, but from the fact 
of her having stopped so soon, I was sure she was 
badly wounded. However, after she got out of 
the snow the ground was as hard as flint, and it 
was impossible to track her ; the valley soon took 
a turn, and branched into a tangle of coulies and 
ravines. I deemed it probable that she would 



198 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

not go up the hill, but would run down the course 
of the main valley; but as it was so uncertain, 
we thought it would pay us best to look for a 
new deer. 

Oiu- luck, however, seemed — very deservedly — 
to have ended. We tramped on, as swiftly as was 
compatible with quiet, for hour after hour ; beat- 
ing through the valleys against the wind, and 
crossing the brushy heads of the ravines, some- 
times close together, and sometimes keeping about 
a hundred yards apart, according to the nature of 
the ground. When we had searched all through 
the country round the head of the creek, into 
which we had come down, we walked over to the 
next, and went over it with equal care and pa- 
tience. The morning was now well advanced, 
and we had to change our method of hunting. 
It was no longer likely that we should find the 
deer feeding or in the open, and instead we looked 
for places where they might be expected to bed, 
following any trails that led into thick patches of 
brush or young trees, one of us then hunting 
through the patch while the other kept watch 
without. Doubtless we must have passed close 
to more than one deer, and doubtless others heard 
us and skulked off through the thick cover ; but, 
although we saw plenty of signs, we saw neither 
hoof nor hair of living thing. It is under such 
circumstances that a still-hiuiter needs to show 



The Black-Tail Deer 199 

resolution, and to persevere until his luck turns 
— this being a euphemistic way of saying: until 
he ceases to commit the various blunders which 
alarm the deer and make them get out of the way. 
Plenty of good shots become disgusted if they do 
not see a deer early in the morning, and go home ; 
still more, if they do not see one in two or three 
days. Others will go on hunting, but become 
careless, stumble and step on dried sticks, and 
let their eyes fall to the ground. It is a good test 
of a man's resolution to see if, at the end of a 
long and unsuccessful tramp after deer, he moves 
just as carefully, and keeps just as sharp a look- 
out as he did at the beginning. If he does this, 
and exercises a little common-sense — in still- 
hunting, as in everything else, common-sense is 
the most necessary of qualities, — he may be sure 
that his reward will come some day ; and when it 
does come, he feels a gratification that only his 
fellow-sportsmen can understand. 

We lunched at the foot of a great clay butte, 
where there was a bed of snow. Fall or winter 
hunting in the Bad Lands has one great advan- 
tage; the hunter is not annoyed by thirst as he 
is almost sure to be if walking for long hours under 
the blazing summer sun. If he gets very thirsty, 
a mouthful or two of snow from some hollow will 
moisten his lips and throat; and anyhow, thirsti- 
ness is largely a mere matter of habit. For lunch, 



200 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

the best thing a hunter can carry is dried or 
smoked venison, with not too much salt in it. It 
is much better than bread, and not nearly so dry ; 
and it is easier to carry, as a couple of pieces can 
be thrust into the bosom of the hunting shirt or 
the pocket, or in fact anywhere ; and for keeping 
up a man's strength there is nothing that comes 
up to it. 

After lunch we hunted until the shadows began 
to lengthen out, when we went back to our horses. 
The buck was packed behind good old Manitou, 
who can carry any amount of weight at a smart 
pace, and does not care at all if a strap breaks and 
he finds his load dangling about his feet, an event 
that reduces most horses to a state of frantic 
terror. As soon as loaded, we rode down the 
valley into which the doe had disappeared in the 
morning, one taking each side and looking into 
every possible lurking place. The odds were all 
against our finding any trace of her ; but a hunter 
soon learns that he must take advantage of every 
chance, however slight. This time we were re- 
warded for our care ; for after riding about a mile 
our attention was attracted by a white patch in a 
clump of low briars. On getting off and looking 
in it proved to be the white rump of the doe, 
which lay stretched out inside, stark and stiff. 
The ball had gone in too far aft and had come 
out on the opposite side near her hip, making a 



The Black-Tail Deer 201 

mortal wound, but one which allowed her to run 
over a mile before dying. It was little more than 
an accident that we in the end got her; and my 
so nearly missing at such short range was due 
purely to carelessness and bad judgment. I had 
killed too many deer to be at all nervous over 
them, and was as cool with a buck as with a rabbit ; 
but as she was so close I made the common mis- 
take of being too much in a hurry, and did not 
wait to see that she was standing quartering to 
me, and that, consequently, I should aim at the 
point of the shoulder. As a result, the deer was 
nearly lost. 

Neither of my shots had so far done me much 
credit ; but, at any rate, I had learned where the 
error lay, and this is going a long way toward 
correcting it. I kept wishing that I could get 
another chance to see if I had not profited by my 
lessons; and before we reached home my wish 
was gratified. We were loping down a grassy 
valley, dotted with clumps of brush, the wind 
blowing strong in our faces, and deadening the 
noise made by the hoofs on the grass. As we 
passed by a piece of broken ground a yearling 
black-tail buck jumped into view and cantered 
away. I was off Manitou's back in an instant. 
The buck was moving slowly, and was evidently 
soon going to stop and look aroimd, so I dropped 
on one knee, with my rifle half raised, and waited. 



202 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

When about sixty yards off he halted and turned 
sideways to me, offering a beautiful broadside shot. 
I aimed at the spot just behind the shoulder and 
felt I had him. At the report he went off, but 
with short, weak bounds, and I knew he would not 
go far; nor did he, but stopped short, swayed un- 
steadily about, and went over on his side, dead, 
the bullet clean through his body. 

Each of us already had a deer behind his saddle, 
so we could not take the last buck along with us. 
Accordingly, we dressed him, and hung him up by 
the heels to a branch of a tree, piling the brush 
around as if building a slight pen or trap, to 
keep off the coyotes; who, anyhow, are not apt 
to harm game that is hanging up, their caution 
seeming to make them fear that it will not be safe 
to do so. In such cold weather a deer hung up 
in this way will keep an indefinite length of time ; 
and the carcass was all right when, a week or two 
afterwards, we sent out the buckboard to bring 
it back. 

A stout buckboard is very useful on a ranch, 
where men are continually taking short trips on 
which they do not wish to be encumbered by the 
heavy ranch wagon. Pack ponies are always a 
nuisance, though of course an inevitable one in 
making journeys through mountains or forests. 
But on the plains a buckboard is far more handy. 
The blankets and provisions can be loaded upon 



The Black-Tail Deer 203 

it, and it can then be given a definite course to 
travel or point to reach; and meanwhile the 
hunters, without having their horses tired by- 
carrying heavy packs, can strike off and hunt 
wherever they wish. There is little or no diffi- 
culty in going over the prairie, but it needs a skil- 
ful plainsman, as well as a good teamster, to take 
a. wagon through the Bad Lands. There are but 
two courses to follow. One is to go along the 
bottoms of the valleys; the other is to go along 
the tops of the divides. The latter is generally 
the best ; for each valley usually has at its bottom 
a deep winding ditch, with perpendicular banks, 
which wanders first to one side and then to the 
other, and has to be crossed again and again, 
while a little way from it begin the gullies and 
gulches which come down from the side hills. It 
is no easy matter to tell which is the main divide, 
as it curves and twists about, and is all the time 
splitting up into lesser ones, which merely sepa- 
rate two branches of the same creek. If the 
teamster does not know the lay of the land he 
will be likely to find himself in a cul-de-sac, from 
which he can only escape by going back a mile 
or two and striking out afresh. In very difficult 
coimtry the horsemen must be on hand to help the 
team pull up the steep places. Many horses that 
will not pull a pound in harness will haul for all 
there is in them from the saddle; Manitou is a 



204 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

case in point. Often obstacles will be encountered 
across which it is simply impossible for any team to 
drag a loaded or even an empty wagon. Such are 
steep canyons, or muddy-bottomed streams with 
sheer banks, especially if the latter have rotten 
edges. The horses must then be crossed first and 
the wagon dragged over afterward by the aid of 
long ropes. Often it may be needful to build a 
kind of rude bridge or causeway on which to get 
the animals over ; and if the canyon is very deep 
the wagon may have to be taken in pieces, let 
down one side, and hauled up the other. An 
immense amount of labor may be required to get 
over a very trifling distance. Pack animals, 
however, can go almost anywhere that a man can. 

Although still-hunting on foot, as described 
above, is on the whole the best way to get deer, 
yet there are many places where, from the nature 
of the land, the sport can be followed quite as 
well on horseback, than which there is no more 
pleasant kind of hunting. The best shot I ever 
made in my life — a shot into which, however, I 
am afraid the element of chance entered much 
more largely than the element of skill — was made 
while hunting black-tail on horseback. 

We were at that time making quite a long trip 
with the wagon, and were going up the fork of a 
plains river in Western Montana. As we were 
out of food, those two of our number who usually 



The Black-Tail Deer 205 

undertook to keep the camp supplied with game 
determined to make a hunt off back of the river 
after black-tail; for though there were some 
white-tail in the more densely timbered river 
bottoms, we had been unable to get any. It was 
arranged that the wagon should go on a few miles, 
and then halt for the night, as it was already 
the middle of the afternoon when we started out. 
The country resembled in character other parts 
of the cattle plains, but it was absolutely bare of 
trees except along the bed of the river. The 
rolling hills sloped steeply off into long valleys 
and deep ravines. They were sparsely covered 
with coarse grass, and also with an irregular 
growth of tall sage-brush, which in some places 
gathered into dense thickets. A beginner would 
have thought the country entirely too barren of 
cover to hold deer, but a very little experience 
teaches one that deer will be found in thickets of 
such short and sparse growth that it seems as if 
they could hide nothing ; and, what is more, that 
they will often skulk round in such thickets with- 
out being discovered. And a black-tail is a bold, 
free animal, Hking to go out in comparatively 
open country, where he must trust to. his own 
powers, and not to any concealment, to protect 
him from danger. 

Where the hilly country joined the alluvial 
river bottom, it broke short off into steep bluffs, 



2o6 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

up which none but a Western pony could have 
climbed. It is really wonderful to see what places 
a pony can get over, and the indifference with 
which it regards tumbles. In getting up from 
the bottom we went into a wash-out, and then 
led our ponies along a clay ledge, from which we 
turned off and went straight up a very steep 
sandy bluff. My companion was ahead; just as 
he turned off the ledge, and as I was right under- 
neath him, his horse, in plunging to try to get up 
the sand bluff, overbalanced itself, and, after 
standing erect on its hind legs for a second, 
came over backward. The second's pause while 
it stood bolt upright, gave me time to make a 
frantic leap out of the way with my pony, which 
scrambled after me, and we clung with hands 
and hoofs to the side of the bank, while the other 
horse took two as complete somersaults as I ever 
saw, and landed with a crash at the bottom of 
the wash-out, feet uppermost. I thought it was 
done for, but not a bit. After a moment or two 
it struggled to its legs, shook itself, and looked 
round in rather a shame-faced way, apparently 
not in the least the worse for the fall. We now 
got my pony up to the top by vigorous pulling, 
and then went down for the other, which at first 
strongly objected to making another trial, but, 
after much coaxing and a good deal of abuse, 
took a start and went up without trouble. 



The Black-Tail Deer 207 

For some time after reaching the top of the 
bluffs we rode along without seeing anything. 
When it was possible, we kept one on each side 
of a creek, avoiding the tops of the ridges, because 
while on them a horseman can be seen at a very- 
long distance, and going with particular caution 
whenever we went round a spur or came up over 
a crest. The country stretched away like an end- 
less, billowy sea of dull-brown soil and barren 
sage-biiish, the valleys making long parallel fur- 
rows, and everything having a look of dreary 
sameness. At length, as we came out on a 
rounded ridge, three black-tail bucks started up 
from a lot of sage-brush some two hundred yards 
away and below us, and made off down hill. It 
was a very long shot, especially to try nmning, 
but, as game seemed scarce and cartridges were 
plenty, I leaped off the horse, and, kneeling, fired. 
The bullet went low, striking in a line at the feet 
of the hindmost. I held very high next time, 
making a wild shot above and ahead of them, 
which had the effect of turning them, and they 
went off round a shoulder of a bluff, being by this 
time down in the valley. Having plenty of time 
I elevated the sights (a thing I hardly ever do) 
to four hundred yards and waited for their reap- 
pearance. Meanwhile, they had evidently gotten 
over their fright, for pretty soon one walked out 
from the other side of the bluff, and came to a 



2o8 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

standstill, broadside toward me. He was too far 
off for me to see his horns. As I was raising the 
rifle another stepped out and began to walk to- 
wards the first. I thought I might as well have 
as much of a target as possible to shoot at, and 
waited for the second buck to come out farther, 
which he did immediately and stood still just 
alongside of the first. I aimed above his shoulders 
and pulled the trigger. Over went the two bucks ! 
And when I rushed down to where they lay I 
found I had pulled a little to one side, and the 
bullet had broken the backs of both. While my 
companion was dressing them I went back and 
paced off the distance. It was just four hundred 
and thirty-one long paces; over four hundred 
yards. Both were large bucks and very fat, with 
the velvet hanging in shreds from their antlers, 
for it was late in August. The day was waning 
and we had a long ride back to the wagon, each 
with a buck behind his saddle. When we came 
back to the river valley it was pitch dark, and it 
was rather ticklish work for our heavily laden 
horses to pick their way down the steep bluffs and 
over the rapid streams; nor were we sorry when 
we saw ahead under a bluff the gleam of the camp 
fire, as it was reflected back from the canvas- 
topped prairie schooner, that for the time being 
represented home to us. 

This was much the best shot I ever made ; and 



The Black-Tail Deer 209 

it is just such a shot as any one will occasionally 
make if he takes a good many chances and fires 
often at ranges where the odds are greatly against 
his hitting. I suppose I had fired a dozen times 
at animals four or five hundred yards off, and 
now, by the doctrine of chances, I happened to 
hit; but I would have been very foolish if I had 
thought for a moment that I had learned how to 
hit at over four hundred yards. I have yet to 
see the hunter who can hit with any regularity 
at that distance, when he has to judge it for him- 
self ; though I have seen plenty who could make 
such a long range hit now and then. And I have 
noticed that such a hunter, in talking over his 
experience, was certain soon to forget the numer- 
ous misses he made, and to say, and even to 
actually think, that his occasional hits represented 
his average shooting. 

One of the finest black-tail bucks I ever shot 
was killed while lying out in a rather unusual 
place. I was hunting mountain-sheep, in a 
stretch of very high and broken country, and 
about midday crept cautiously up to the edge 
of a great gorge, whose sheer walls went straight 
down several hundred feet. Peeping over the 
brink of the chasm I saw a buck, lying out on a 
ledge so narrow as to barely hold him, right on 
the face of the cliff wall opposite, some distance 
below, and about seventy yards diagonally across 



2IO Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 

from me. He lay with his legs half stretched out, 
and his head turned so as to give me an exact 
centre-shot at his forehead, the bullet going in 
between his eyes, so that his legs hardly so much 
as twitched when he received it. It was toilsome 
and almost dangerous work climbing out to where 
he lay ; I have never known any other individual, 
even of this bold and adventurous species of deer, 
to take its noonday siesta in a place so barren of 
all cover and so difficult of access even to the 
most sure-footed climber. This buck was as fat 
as a prize sheep, and heavier than any other I 
have ever killed ; while his antlers also were, with 
two exceptions, the best I ever got. 



JAN X9 1903 



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